Dustpelt beckoned to Rainwhisker, who would be able to show him the way to the half-built set, and signalled Brightheart and Cloudtail to follow.
Firestar watched them go. “Every patrol will have to watch out for badgers in the future,” he warned. “This family could come back, or more of them might be trying to settle. If one badger is trying to find a new home, there could be others.” Grimly he added, “We must make it clear they’re not welcome here.”
Moonlight glimmered on the rippling stream, and the warm scents of newleaf drifted across Leafpool’s fur as she stood gazing into WindClan’s territory. Suddenly a lean, dark shape raced down the bank—Crowfeather. He plunged into the stream with a glittering splash as moon-filled drops spun away from his paws. Water brushed his belly fur; then Crowfeather was pulling himself onto the bank beside Leafpool. His scent flooded over her.
“Crowfeather …” she murmured.
“What?”
Leafpool opened her eyes to see Cinderpelt poking her head out of her den. “Did you say something?” the medicine cat mewed.
Leafpool sprang out of her nest and gave herself a shake to dislodge scraps of moss from her pelt. “No, Cinderpelt.” The last thing she wanted was to be asked what she had been dreaming about. “Do you need me to do something?”
“I’ve just been checking our stores of herbs,” Cinderpelt meowed. “Some of them are getting very low, and—”
“I’ll go and gather some,” Leafpool offered. “It’s almost newleaf, so there’s bound to be something growing. Squirrelflight told me where she saw some coltsfoot.”
“Good,” mewed Cinderpelt. “We could do with some marigold or horsetail too. We used nearly every scrap after the battle. And anything else you see that would be useful.”
“Right, Cinderpelt.” Leafpool’s paws itched to carry her out of the camp so she could be alone with her thoughts. Waving her tail in farewell, she headed across the clearing and through the thorn tunnel.
The sun had not yet cleared the tops of the trees, and clammy, dew-laden grass brushed Leafpool’s belly fur, but she scarcely noticed the chill. Her paws tingled with excitement, and she ran faster until she was racing through the trees. The gurgle of water brought her to a halt. She realised her paws had brought her to the stream that marked the border with WindClan, close to the lake where trees grew in WindClan territory too. The place was hauntingly familiar. She had stood here in her dream, and Crowfeather had come to her.
The bank was silent and deserted, the trees casting long shadows over the water. Leafpool stood still, her gaze devouring the undergrowth on the far side of the stream. She half hoped, half dreaded what she might see. A WindClan patrol would be hostile if they found her so close to the border, but if Crowfeather appeared … But she had no business hoping to meet Crowfeather. She was a medicine cat, and medicine cats could not fall in love.
She tasted the air and picked up her own Clan’s scent markers, and those of WindClan from the opposite bank, but not the scent that threw her into such turmoil. A pang of disappointment burned through her, and she knew some part of her had expected him to be waiting for her.
“Stupid furball,” she muttered. “It was only a dream.”
She stiffened as she heard voices from further downstream; a heartbeat later ThunderClan scent drifted around her. She didn’t want to meet a patrol this far away from the camp. They would ask what she was doing, and she was too confused to explain properly. She glanced around. The only cover close by was a holly bush with branches that swept the ground; Leafpool squeezed under it just as the ThunderClan patrol came into sight.
Peering out between the prickly leaves, Leafpool saw that Brackenfur was leading the patrol. He padded past with Sootfur and Whitepaw behind him, then paused to ask his apprentice what she could scent. Leafpool froze.
“WindClan cats,” Whitepaw replied after a moment. “And ThunderClan, of course, and I think a fox went by a while ago—probably yesterday. No sign of any badgers, though.”
“Well done,” meowed Brackenfur. “If you go on like this, you’ll be a warrior in no time.”
Whitepaw fluffed out her tail with pride as she followed her mentor and Sootfur upstream. Leafpool relaxed; the apprentice hadn’t singled her out from the other ThunderClan scents. When the patrol had disappeared she began to wriggle out from her hiding place, only to be flooded by another, crashingly familiar scent.
“Leafpool, whatever are you doing under there?”
Leafpool scrambled the rest of the way out of the holly bush and turned around to meet the curious gaze of her friend Sorreltail. “Looking for berries,” she mewed feebly.
“Holly berries?” Sorreltail’s amber eyes stretched wide in surprise. “I thought they were poisonous.”
“Yes, they are. I was … er … looking for different berries.”
Sorreltail’s tail curled up, but to Leafpool’s relief she didn’t ask any more questions. Her eyes were shining, even though she looked tired. “There’s something I have to tell you, I think,” she meowed.
Leafpool stared at her friend in horror. Had she guessed about Crowfeather? “There are good herbs around here,” she began, struggling not to show her panic. She had to make Sorreltail believe she was here on medicine cat business—no other reason. “I always come here when—”
“Leafpool, what are you meowing about? I’m expecting kits!”
Leafpool saw pride and excitement and a flicker of fear in Sorreltail’s expression. Mousebrain! she scolded herself. Call yourself a medicine cat?
A purr of happiness rose inside her. “Are they Brackenfur’s?” The tortoiseshell and golden brown warriors had been inseparable ever since they arrived in the new territory.
Sorreltail nodded. “I haven’t told him yet; I wanted to be certain first. Oh, Leafpool, I just know he’ll make a wonderful father.”
“I’m sure he will.” Leafpool pressed her muzzle against her friend’s. “And you’ll be a wonderful mother.”
“I hope so.” Sorreltail ducked her head. “I’m a bit scared, but I know I’ll be fine if I’ve got you to look after me.”
“I’ll do my best,” Leafpool mewed, trying not to squirm under the warmth of her friend’s praise. Right now, she was as far from being a good medicine cat as she could be. “Just think, Sorreltail, you’ll be the first cat to bear kits for ThunderClan in our new home! The first cat to use the new nursery.”
Sorreltail blinked happily. The sound of a pawstep behind her made Leafpool turn; Brackenfur had come back to see what was keeping his mate.
“Are you OK?” he asked, padding up to her and giving her ears a lick.
“I’m fine, Brackenfur,” Sorreltail replied. “Just a bit tired.”
“Come a bit further,” Brackenfur meowed, pointing upstream with his tail. “We’ve found a nice sunny spot under a tree. You can rest and we’ll see how Whitepaw’s hunting skills are coming on.”
His gentle care of Sorreltail made Leafpool certain that he had guessed her secret. It wouldn’t be a secret for much longer.
Sorreltail leaned against his shoulder for a moment, then touched her nose to Leafpool’s. “Bye, Leafpool. I hope you find those berries.”
Leafpool watched the two cats head upstream, their pelts brushing, until they disappeared among the trees. There was a strange ache in her heart, half joy and half sorrow. She was happy for Sorreltail, but she envied her too. She and Brackenfur had entered a private world where a medicine cat could never follow.