Chapter Text
It was hot in the hut. The summer sunshine was beating down on the dark leaves, baking the warriors’ beds. Blueflower emerged into the cool air, sighing in relief. The sun was high in the sky. The clearing was mostly empty. Weedwhisker was picking through the food storage. Poppydawn was sitting outside the apprentice’s hut. Blueflower still felt like she’d eaten a thorn bush, but her head was clear.
She glanced at the nursery, wondering how Leopardfoot was doing. As she watched, Featherwhisker emerged. His black hair was mussed and his eyes were dull.
Blueflower hurried across the clearing. “How are they?” Her voice was raspy.
Featherwhisker blinked in surprise. “Are you okay? You don’t look so good.”
“Stomachache.”
He sighed. “Sweet and Rose, too.” He stopped beside Poppydawn. “I can see them now.”
Poppydawn frowned. “It can wait if you’re busy.”
Featherwhisker shook his head and pushed into the apprentice’s hut. Poppydawn stared after him anxiously.
“I got a stomachache, too,” Blueflower said. “But I’m feeling better now.”
Poppydawn looked up at her.
“We shared a meal yesterday,” Blueflower explained. “It must have been bad.”
Poppydawn frowned, looking at the ground. “Rose will be fine. But Sweet…”
“She’ll be fine,” Blueflower reassured her.
“I’ve never seen someone get so sick.”
Featherwhisker reemerged from the apprentice’s hut. “Herbs would be pointless until they stop being sick. Just make sure they get plenty of water.”
Poppydawn nodded and stood up.
“How are you?” Featherwhisker asked Blueflower.
Blueflower shrugged. “Just tired.”
“Goosefeather should have herbs to soothe your stomach,” Featherwhisker said. He glanced at the nursery.
“Did she name the baby yet?” Blueflower asked.
“She’s called him Tiger.”
“Tiger?” That was a fierce name.
“He’s weak,” Featherwhisker said bleakly. “I think she’s hoping he’ll get stronger.”
“What about Leopardfoot?”
“She lost some blood, but there’s no sign of infection,” Featherwhisker reported. “She’ll be fine.”
He yawned.
“Have you slept at all?” Blueflower asked.
He shook his head.
“You should rest,” she suggested. “Everything’s quiet, and Poppydawn is watching Sweet and Rose.”
Featherwhisker nodded. “Just make sure you go see Goosefeather.” He walked over to the shade of the Highrock and sat down.
Blueflower headed for the rock crag. Why hadn’t Goosefeather been helping? Did he want this newborn to die? As she reached the clearing, she stopped. It was empty.
“Goosefeather!” she called.
A grumble sounded from the crack, then Goosefeather emerged. “What?”
“I have a stomachache. Sweet, Rose and I had a bad slab of meat last night.”
Goosefeather sighed. “Terrible omens, all through camp today.” He turned back into his hut, then came out a moment later with a handful of leaves. “So many warnings,” he murmured. “I should have seen it sooner.”
“What?” Blueflower said, taking the leaves. “Would StarClan have warned us against eating bad meat?” She noticed that he was ungroomed, his beard scraggly and hair springy. He looked thin, as though he hadn’t eaten.
He stared at her. “How can you ignore the signs? You have a prophecy hanging over your own head, and you can’t see the signs?”
“I’m just a warrior.” Was she supposed to have the insight of a healer? That didn’t seem fair. He was supposed to give her the answers, not taunt her with a destiny she couldn’t understand.
“You’re more than just a warrior!” he snapped. “Too many omens. Three people poisoned, one heading to StarClan. Leopardfoot could have died giving birth, and her baby just barely hanging onto life.” He stared at her. “Why such a difficult birth for the Clan leader’s wife? The boy may not make it to his first birthday. It’s my duty to help, but I can’t ignore the signs.”
Blueflower backed out of the hut, suddenly afraid. The signs of what? Was Leopardfoot’s son supposed to die? And who was heading to StarClan?
She dashed out of the healer’s hut and toward the apprentice’s hut. She pushed inside to see the two sisters in their own beds, sweaty and groaning in pain.
Rose raised her head. “Blueflower?”
Sweet wasn’t moving.
Blueflower sat beside Rose’s bed. “How are you?”
“Not good,” she croaked. “But not entirely bad. Featherwhisker said you were sick, too.”
Blueflower nodded. “I’m feeling better now.” She glanced at Sweet, who was groaning in pain. “You’ll get better.”
The hut shivered as Poppydawn pushed inside, holding a pot of water. She placed it beside Rose, who sipped gratefully, then offered it to Sweet, who didn’t move.
“Come on, Sweet,” Poppydawn said. “You need to drink.”
Sweet blinked her eyes open. She took one sip then gagged, unable to keep it down.
“I’ll get Featherwhisker,” Blueflower offered.
Poppydawn shook his head. “He’s sleeping.” She stroked Sweet’s hair. “I’ll watch them. You should get outside for some fresh air.”
Blueflower pushed out of the apprentice’s hut, relieved to feel clean air on her face once again. She pushed through the camp tunnel and into the forest.
The climb up the ravine left her breathless. She was thankful for the cool breeze wafting through the forest, and she wandered among the trees feeling glad to be away from camp. Birds called in the trees. Insect buzzed in the lush undergrowth. Blueflower reached up to snag a soft leave off a low banging branch.
A butterfly fluttered a few lengths ahead, buffeted by the easy breeze. Suddenly, the ferns trembled.
Pinestar stepped out from the undergrowth, looking around. He jumped in surprise when he noticed Blueflower.
“Oh, it’s just you,” he said.
Blueflower frowned. Why did he seem so spooked? “Is everything okay?”
Pinestar thought for a moment. “I...I’m just worried about the new baby.” Before she could question him further, he pushed past her and headed for the ravine.
Blueflower stared after him. On the back of his cloak, she noticed a few leaves were stuck. When she peered closer, she realized they were sprigs of catmint, as though he’d laid in a patch of them.
Her heart pounded in her chest. Was Pinestar still visiting the town?