“I say these words before the body of Cloudpelt, and in the presence of the spirits of my ancestors, that they may hear and approve my choice,” Raggedstar announced. “Brokentail will be the new deputy of ShadowClan.” He raised his tail for silence before the Clan could break into the usual cheers. “True, Brokentail is still younger than most of you, but ShadowClan has never had a braver or more skillful warrior. He is an example to us all, and it will be a great honor to lead the Clan with him.”
Yowls rose up to welcome Brokentail. The warrior stood in the center of the clearing with his head held high and his eyes gleaming like two yellow moons. Yellowfang thought back to the time when he had been a friendless kit because no cat knew who his mother was. She had felt sorry for him then, and terribly guilty for abandoning her only son. But so much had happened since then, all of it overshadowed by Molepelt’s strange warning of blood and fire. However hard she tried, Yellowfang couldn’t feel pride in the warrior that stood before her now. Only fear and a deep sense of dread for the future.
Then the sound of familiar voices drifted into the medicine cats’ den. Yellowfang let the fur on her neck lie down.
A moon before, shortly after he became deputy, Brokentail had decided that the Clan should start patrolling the borders at night. “Other Clans might attack us under cover of darkness,” he had stated. “But they’ll discover that ShadowClan is ready for them.”
Runningnose stirred in his nest beside Yellowfang. “These night patrols are a waste of time,” he complained. “We’re no more at risk of attack than the other Clans, because they’re all
“Fox dung! StarClan-cursed thorns!” A voice sounded a couple of tail-lengths away.
“At least we should be sleeping,” Runningnose added dryly.
There was a rustle of movement as a cat slipped between the boulders into the den; Yellowfang recognized Frogtail by his scent. “What is it?” she called.
“I wrenched my shoulder jumping down from a tree trunk while I was on patrol,” Frogtail explained. “You can’t see your paw in front of your face on a night like this.”
Yellowfang sighed. “Come over here.”
She did her best to examine Frogtail’s shoulder in the dark. She could feel heat in his muscles and she let down her defenses, allowing herself to feel his pain briefly so that she could judge how bad it was. “You’ll live,” she grunted.
“Do I need herbs?” Frogtail meowed. “Poppy seeds to sleep?”
“No, your pain isn’t that bad,” Yellowfang told him. Brokentail’s new schedule of extra patrols and training had meant more injuries than usual and stocks of herbs were low. “You’ll be fine if you just rest.”
“Are you sure?” Frogtail sounded disappointed. “I can’t afford to miss any training, or Brokentail will put me back on apprentice duties.”
ShadowClan had no apprentices at the moment: Featherstorm’s litter, Mosskit, Volekit, and Dawnkit, were still too young, and Newtspeck had only recently given birth to Wetkit, Littlekit, and Brownkit. Until more kits could be apprenticed, the warriors were taking turns performing the duties.
“That’s not necessarily a bad thing,” Yellowfang suggested. “Apprentice duties will be easier on your shoulder than training and patrolling.”
“I guess,” Frogtail muttered. “Thanks anyway, Yellowfang,” he added as he padded out of the den.
Runningnose had already curled up again, but when Yellowfang returned to her nest, sleep eluded her. As soon as the sky began to grow pale with dawn, she made her way into the clearing. The ground was cold beneath her paws and in the dim light she could see a white rim of frost on every leaf and twig.
From the nursery she could hear the joyful squeaking of kits, and she pictured six warm, furry bodies squirming among the moss and pine needles. Yellowfang glowed with warmth as she imagined them growing big and strong over the next moons. But her hope was tinged with worry.
