“Is this StarClan?” she called. “Is there anyone there?”
A moment later a small dark-pelted cat padded out of the shadows. He gave Yellowfang a long look, and solemnly shook his head. “There is a cat coming,” he meowed, “a cat who should never be born, whose life will bring fire and blood to the forest, yet StarClan is powerless to stop him!”
Yellowfang stared at him in horror. “Is there nothing we can do?”
The dark cat dipped his head. “Only one thing can stop the tide of hatred this birth-cursed cat will bring: the courage of a mother to know her destiny.”
“Are you talking about one of my kits?” Yellowfang gasped. “What do you mean? Is this a prophecy?”
“It is a
Yellowfang sprang after him and woke up thrashing in her nest, with the walls of the den faintly visible as the sky paled toward dawn. Horror chilled her bones. She instinctively curled her paws around her swollen belly, desperate to protect the life within.
Yellowfang raised her eyes to the few warriors of StarClan who still shone in the dawn sky. “StarClan, I speak these words before you,” she whispered. “I vow to my kits that I will do everything I can to protect them. I’m sorry that I won’t be the mother they might have hoped for, the mother they deserve, but I will
The last leaves fell from the trees. The weather was not as harsh as the previous leaf-bare, but the days were cold and endlessly wet, and none of the cats ever felt warm or dry. Life in the Clan seemed to slow down, with warriors only emerging to hunt or patrol, though no cat expected enemies to attack in such foul weather.
One morning Yellowfang lay at the mouth of her den, watching Raggedpelt sorting reluctant warriors into patrols under the perpetual drizzling rain. Cloudpelt, fully recovered now, was among them, the only cat who seemed to have any energy as he leaped and splashed through the puddles in the clearing.
“You did well to heal the young warrior.” Sagewhisker came to join Yellowfang at the mouth of the den.
“He was strong enough to heal himself,” Yellowfang responded, feeling uncomfortable and fat under her thick pelt.
For a moment the medicine cat was silent. Then she gave Yellowfang a nudge. “Come on, let’s go for a walk. I haven’t been out of the camp for days.”
Unwilling, but not daring to show it, Yellowfang heaved herself to her paws and padded beside Sagewhisker out of the camp, following the departing patrols. She noticed how much the old medicine cat was showing her age, gray around the muzzle and stiff in her hind legs when the weather was damp. A pang of concern shook Yellowfang. Sagewhisker had been ShadowClan’s medicine cat for as long as she could remember, a source of skill and comfort for her Clan, and it was hard to think of her getting old.
Yellowfang and Sagewhisker ducked through the dripping brambles and headed out into the marshes.
“I like the open spaces when it rains,” Sagewhisker meowed. “I can’t stand it when rain splashes on my neck from the trees.” Pausing at the edge of the marshland, she took in a deep breath. “It’s bleak out here, but I love this part of the territory,” she told Yellowfang. “I’m a ShadowClan cat to my bones, and I’m glad StarClan made sure I was born here.”
Yellowfang murmured agreement, but her attention was mostly fixed on the wriggling in her belly. Suddenly one of her kits kicked her so hard that she let out an involuntary gasp.
Sagewhisker turned to her. “Come and sit here, on this clump of grass.” As Yellowfang obeyed, she gave her a long look. “How long to go?” she asked.
Yellowfang stared at her in dismay. “You know?” she whispered.
“I’m a medicine cat,” Sagewhisker replied. “I’ve delivered more kits for ShadowClan than you’ve eaten mice. Of course I know.”
“Are you angry?”
“A little,” Sagewhisker admitted. “You made vows, and you’ve broken them.”
“No!” Yellowfang protested. “Raggedpelt and I haven’t been together since I was made a full medicine cat at the Moonstone.”
