Warriors AU: Rising Storm

Chapter 11

"Cinderpelt! What are you doing here?" Sandstorm spun around to face the medicine cat. "Did you know about this?"

A pile of herbs lay between Cinderpelt's paws. He lifted his chin defiantly. "They needed my help. There was nothing for them in their camp but sickness."

"So they came straight back!" Sandstorm glared at him angrily. "Where did you find them?"

"Near Sunningrocks. I smelled their sickness when I was out collecting herbs yesterday. They were looking for a safe place to hide," explained Cinderpelt.

"And you brought them here." Sandstorm snorted. "They probably only came back on our land because they knew you'd take pity on them." Cinderpelt's concern for the Shadowclan cats had been obvious when they were in the Thunderclan camp. "Did you think you could treat them without any cat finding out?" Sandstorm demanded. He couldn't believe that Cinderpelt had exposed himself—and the rest of the Clan—to such a risk.

Cinderpelt met his eyes, undaunted. "Don't pretend you're really angry with me. You felt just as sorry for them," he reminded him. "You couldn't have turned them away a second time either!"

Sandstorm could see that he believed he had done the right thing, and he had to admit the truth in his words—he couldn't deny he felt sorry for the sick cats, and had felt uncomfortable with Oakstar's lack of compassion. "Does Raggedpelt know?" he asked, his anger fading.

"No, I don't think so," answered Cinderpelt.

"How sick are they?"

"They're starting to recover." Cinderpelt allowed a hint of satisfaction to enter his voice.

"I still smell sickness," Sandstorm meowed suspiciously.

"Well, they're not completely cured yet. But they will be."

Littlecloud's voice rasped from the shadows behind him. "We're getting better, thanks to Cinderpelt."

Sandstorm could hear that Littlecloud's voice was already stronger than it had been in the Thunderclan camp, and the young warrior's eyes shone brightly in the gloom. "They do sound better," he admitted, turning his back to the young medicine cat. "How did you do it? Raggedpelt seemed to think this sickness was deadly."

"I must have found the right combination of herbs and berries," Cinderpelt replied happily. Sandstorm noticed he spoke with a confidence he'd not heard in him for a while, and he recognized the spirit of the lively, strong-willed apprentice he had once trained.

"Well done!" he meowed. He thought instinctively of how Oakstar would relish the news that a Thunderclan cat might have found a cure for Shadowclan's strange sickness. But then he remembered that Oakstar was not the leader she had once been. It wouldn't be safe to tell her that Cinderpelt had been hiding Shadowclan cats in Thunderclan territory. Her judgment had been clouded by her obsession with the threat of attack.

Sandstorm realized that as long as the Shadowclan cats remained here, they were in danger. He was afraid Oakstar would order them to be killed at once if she found out they were still on Thunderclan territory. "I'm sorry, Cinderpelt." He shook his head. "These cats must leave. It's not safe for them here."

Cinderpelt flicked his tail in frustration. "They're too ill to return to their own camp yet. I might be able to heal them, but I'm no good as a hunter. They haven't eaten properly for days."

"I'll catch them something now," Sandstorm offered. "It should give them enough strength to travel home."

"But what about when we get back?" Whitethroat rasped from the shadows.

Sandstorm couldn't answer that, but he couldn't risk their sickness finding its way into the Thunderclan camp. What if a Shadowclan patrol came into Thunderclan territory looking for their missing warriors? "I'll feed you; then you must go," he repeated.