Dovewing's Silence (2 page)

Dovewing stood very still in the
center of the camp as silence crashed over the forest. From the corner of her eye she saw two pale shapes, a badger with a long striped nose and a hairless cat with swollen blind eyes. They nodded to her, then walked out of the hollow. For a moment Dovewing wanted to chase after them, to haul them back and demand to know what happened next.

Midnight! Rock! How can you leave us like this? The Dark Forest may have been defeated but we have lost everything!

The quiet beneath the trees was broken by a muffled sob. Sandstorm was crouching beside Firestar's unmoving body, which still lay at the foot of the lightning-scorched tree.

“We have lost everything,” Dovewing whispered out loud.

She watched Leafpool press a wad of cobweb onto a bite wound on Cinderheart's flank; Lionblaze stood over them, the tip of his tail twitching anxiously, until Leafpool sent him away to fetch marigold and tansy from the medicine cats' den.

Millie touched Dovewing's shoulder with her muzzle. “Are you hurt?” she mewed.

Dovewing shook her head. In truth, she had no idea what
wounds she had suffered in the terrible blood-soaked skirmishes; she felt numb from her nose to her claws, and her ears were still buzzing from the sounds of the battle.

“Then come help us,” Millie prompted. She steered Dovewing gently over to the edge of the clearing where the bodies of Hollyleaf, Mousefur, and Ferncloud were being arranged. Dustpelt was staring down at Ferncloud, his dark tabby coat matted with blood and patchy where tufts of fur had been ripped out.

“You need to see Leafpool,” Icecloud prompted him, pausing as she carefully straightened Ferncloud's feather-soft tail. “I'll stay here.”

“I will never leave Ferncloud's side again,” Dustpelt snarled. He slammed his paw onto the ground, his claw-tips scoring the soil. “I should have been with her. She should never have been left to fight Brokenstar alone. She was nothing but a scrap of prey for him!”

Icecloud glanced up at him with a glint of anger in her pale blue gaze. “My mother gave her life to protect the nursery. She died the death of a warrior. Don't take that away from her.”

Spiderleg limped up and rested his tail on his father's shoulder. “I'm sure Leafpool can come see you while you're here,” he told Dustpelt. “We should all be with her now. Birchfall has taken Foxleap to the medicine den, then he and Leafpool will join us.”

Dovewing felt a stab of grief for her father. Poor Birchfall. Ferncloud was his mother as well as Icecloud's and Foxleap's. He would feel her loss hard.

Dovewing jumped as Whitewing appeared beside her. The white she-cat's pelt was streaked scarlet with blood, and Dovewing opened her mouth to protest that she should be in the medicine cats' den. Her mother quickly shook her head. “It's not mine,” she meowed. “Can you help Purdy?” She gestured with her muzzle toward the old tabby tom, who was struggling to fold Mousefur's paws beneath her.

There was an invisible stone lodged in Dovewing's throat that made it impossible to speak, but she went over to Purdy and held Mousefur's leg still while he gently curled her feet under her belly as if she was sleeping. The old tom's eyes were overflowing, and his breath rasped in his chest.

Dovewing was distracted by a stir at the entrance to the hollow. Jayfeather and Brambleclaw were standing by the flattened tangle of thorns that had once protected the camp. “I'm leaving now for the Moonpool,” Brambleclaw announced, his voice ringing beneath the night-black sky. “More than ever, ThunderClan needs a leader.” He faltered as he gazed at the flame-colored body in the shadows. More quietly, he went on, “And now, it seems I must be that leader.” He nodded to Squirrelflight, who was watching him with her green eyes brimming with sorrow. “Squirrelflight, as my deputy, I leave the Clan under your charge.”

Without another word, he turned and bounded over the thorns. Jayfeather followed more slowly, his gray pelt the color of clouds in the moonlight.

Squirrelflight climbed the rocks to Highledge as if every bone in her body was in pain, and looked down at her
Clanmates. “Before we do anything else, we must see to our wounds. Check yourself carefully and go to the medicine den if you are hurt.” Her voice was dull as if the battle had bled out her ability to feel anything. “The time is past for heroes,” she meowed. “The Clan needs you to be strong now. So if you have any injuries at all, get them treated.” She narrowed her eyes at Dustpelt, who had wrenched his gaze away from Ferncloud. “That means you too,” Squirrelflight finished.

Dovewing glanced at her flanks and looked briefly at each paw but she couldn't see any wounds that needed urgent attention. She started to lick Mousefur's ears to clean them, but Purdy placed his tail-tip on her shoulder. “I can take care of her now,” he mewed gruffly.

Dovewing nodded and took a step back to let the old cat shuffle closer to Mousefur's head. She closed her eyes in pain as Purdy's tongue rasped over his denmate's pelt.
What will he do without you, Mousefur?

Beside her, a silver-and-white she-cat was picking leaf scraps from Hollyleaf's fur. Dovewing pressed her flank against her sister. “Are you okay, Ivypool?”

The silver-and-white cat nodded without looking up. “I'm alive, aren't I? Thanks to Hollyleaf.” Ivypool traced her muzzle over Hollyleaf's back. “If it hadn't been for her, Hawkfrost would have killed me. Hollyleaf gave her life for mine!”

Dovewing winced at the tremor in Ivypool's voice. “Remember that Hollyleaf is watching you now,” she murmured. “She will never regret what she did.”

From the other side of Hollyleaf's body, Daisy nodded. She
was untangling the long black fur with her claws, teasing out the knots as gently as if Hollyleaf could feel every tug. “Hollyleaf died as a true warrior,” she agreed.

Dovewing looked around at the sound of paw steps. Brackenfur was pacing across the clearing, his tail flicking. “Has anyone seen Sorreltail?” he called.

Brightheart emerged from the remains of the elders' den, the white patches on her fur glowing in the half-light. Muffled sounds of her three kits came from deep within the crushed branches.

“Is it safe to come out now?”

“Have those dead cats gone? They were bad!”

“Ow! Dewkit's treading on me!”

Brightheart glanced over her shoulder. The skin on her ravaged face was taut and red from strain. “Wait there!” she meowed. “You can come out soon, I promise.” She turned back to Brackenfur. “I saw Sorreltail go into the nursery. You should try there first.”

“Thanks.” Brackenfur trotted toward the clump of brambles, miraculously intact thanks to Ferncloud's courage.

Dovewing shook her head, trying to clear the buzzing from her ears.
Something's wrong
, she thought. The hair along her spine rose.
I should be able to hear Sorreltail—but I can't.

“Are you feeling all right?” Ivypool asked.

Dovewing didn't take her eyes from the nursery as she watched Brackenfur slip inside. “I'm fine,” she murmured.

“
No
.”

Brackenfur's single word dropped like a stone into the
hush of the clearing. Dovewing was at the entrance to the nursery before she realized her paws were moving. Brackenfur was standing at the edge of Sorreltail's nest, looking down at his mate's unmoving body. The air was thick with the stench of blood, and Dovewing felt it sticky and liquid beneath her pads.

A tiny dark tabby head with white patches popped up from behind Sorreltail, her blue eyes huge and worried. “We can't wake her!” Lilykit squeaked. “We tried and tried but she's still asleep!”

Her sister Seedkit appeared. Her pale ginger fur was fluffed in all directions, making her look like a hedgehog. “Is she really tired from the fighting, do you think?”

“Tired . . .” Brackenfur whispered without lifting his gaze from Sorreltail's sweet face. The she-cat's eyes were lightly closed as if she had just dozed off.

“Lilykit, Seedkit, come with me,” Dovewing urged, her voice coming out as a croak.

The kits scrambled over Sorreltail's body. “Sorry, Mama,” Lilykit mewed when her paw slipped into Sorreltail's ear.

Dovewing tried not to flinch when she saw that the kits' belly fur was soaked with blood. She glanced sideways at Brackenfur, but he hadn't noticed. His legs had crumpled beneath him and he was curled around Sorreltail's head, pressing his muzzle against her.

“Wake up, my love,” he murmured. “Our kits need you. We can't lose you now.”

Dovewing nudged the kits toward the entrance. “I think
Papa is sad,” Seedkit chirped. “Shall I stay and make him feel better?”

“No, let's leave him be,” Dovewing urged. She followed the kits into the clearing. Several cats were waiting outside, eyes wide and anxious. Brightheart let out a gasp when she saw the bloodstained little cats. As she bounded forward, she called over her shoulder, “Cloudtail? Tell our kits to stay where they are.” Her mate trotted to the remains of the elders' den while Brightheart pulled Lilykit and Seedkit to her belly with her tail and began licking their soiled fur. Over their heads, she met Dovewing's gaze with a question in her eyes. Dovewing nodded. Brightheart bent over Sorreltail's kits and drew them closer.

Squirrelflight padded over. “What's going on?”

“Sorreltail is dead,” Dovewing meowed, each word dragged out with claws sharp as thorns.

Cherrypaw visibly swayed on her paws, and Whitewing closed her eyes with a grimace of pain. Squirrelflight looked baffled. “But . . . but she was fine. She didn't say anything about being hurt.” The dark ginger cat looked around at her Clanmates. “Didn't anyone notice she'd been injured?”

Sandstorm walked forward, her eyes still wet with grief for Firestar. She rested her tail on Squirrelflight's shoulder. “If she was injured that badly, we couldn't have done anything to help her.”

Squirrelflight lashed her tail. “We could have tried!”

There was a wail from inside the nursery. “Sorreltail! Don't leave me!”

“I'll go to him,” Millie offered, slipping into the brambles. “He shouldn't be alone at this time.”

Graystripe stepped forward. With a shock, Dovewing realized he looked old and tired. “The Dark Forest has claimed another victim,” the warrior declared. “May Sorreltail watch over us from StarClan.” He bowed his head.

Squirrelflight paced anxiously around the cats. “I told you all to check yourselves for injuries. Have you done it yet? I won't have any other cats die on me!”

Dovewing felt a stab of guilt as she licked at the scratch on her flank. She should get it treated before it got infected. She headed toward the medicine cats' den. Inside, Spiderleg was helping Leafpool pad the gaping bite wound in Foxleap's belly with crushed leaves. Foxleap lay very still, only the flickering of his eyelids proving that he was alive.

Leafpool looked up. “Are you hurt, Dovewing? Can it wait?” Her amber eyes were huge with distress.

“Sorreltail died,” Dovewing meowed.

Leafpool jumped up, almost tripping over Foxleap. “What? She didn't tell me she was hurt!”

“She didn't tell anyone,” Dovewing whispered. “I think she just wanted to be with her kits.”

The medicine cat's shoulders slumped. “There is nothing I can do for her now. Let me finish treating Foxleap, then I'll bring some herbs and cobweb outside to treat you and anyone else that I haven't seen yet.”

Dovewing padded back to the clearing. The three bodies of her fallen Clanmates were surrounded by little knots of their
kin and closest friends. Ivypool was hunched beside Hollyleaf, licking the soft black fur on her shoulder. Bumblestripe was next to his father at Firestar's body. The pale gray tom caught Dovewing's eye and twitched his ears, as if offering to join her instead, but Dovewing shook her head. Graystripe needed him more right now.