Midnight

Chapter 8

"Snakerocks is the best place in the forest to find chervil," Cinderpelt explained over her shoulder as the group followed a fern-shaded path. "But we can't go there just yet, thanks to that wretched badger."

"It's still there, then?" Leafpaw asked. She and Cinderpelt had joined Cloudpaw and Frostfur as they hunted to gather herbs. Occasionally, Cinderpelt would split off to snag a vole or mouse before resuming Leafpaw's training.

"Its stench is ruining that part of the forest," Cloudpaw hissed. "All the prey is running off because that brute doesn't know how to mask its scent."

"And it's a good thing it doesn't," Frostfur meowed. "Or we'd have an even harder time trying to get rid of it."

"Frostfur's right," added Cinderpelt. "Badgers are much worse than foxes. It's best to keep your eyes open for—Ah!"

She swerved into the ferns and up a sandy slope, where several clumps of a strongly scented herb were growing; the flowers were gone and there were large, spreading leaves. Cloudpaw recognized the sweetish scent from when he'd eaten too much fresh-kill as a kit and had gotten a bellyache.

"Tell me what we use this for," Cinderpelt prompted, beginning to gnaw one of the stems at its base.

Cloudpaw took the moment to sit down and watched as Leafpaw narrowed her eyes as she concentrated on the question. "The juice of the leaves for infected wounds," she mewed. "And if you chew the root it's good for bellyache."

"Well done," Cinderpelt purred. "Now you can dig up a few roots—not too many, though, or there'll be no more in seasons to come."

The two medicine cats took the next several moments biting off stems and roots as Frostfur led Cloudpaw a few tail-lengths away.

"What do you smell?" she asked.

Cloudpaw lifted his nose and tasted the air, drawing in all the delicious forest scents. "Mouse, that herb, a faint trace of squirrel, and. . . and something else?"

At his confusion, Frostfur lifted her nose as well. Cloudpaw turned to his mentor as her fur bristled and her blue eyes narrowed in worry. Her head whipped around and Cloudpaw followed her gaze to a thin thread of smoke rising from a clump of dead bracken a little way down the slope.

"Cinderpelt! Leafpaw!" Frostfur called, lashing her tail. "We need to move!"

The medicine cat looked around and froze, her neck fur bristling and her blue eyes blazing. "Great StarClan, no!" she gasped. Awkwardly, because of her injured leg, she began scrambling down toward the burning bracken.

Cloudpaw and Frostfur sprang after her, ready to get them out if it becomes serious. As the group drew closer to the clump of bracken, a searing light flashed, making all of them pause with a hiss. Blinking, Cloudpaw could make out some spiky scrap of Twoleg rubbish. The sun was falling straight onto it and the bracken behind was slowly blackening and sending the wisp of smoke into the sky.

"Fire!" Cinderpelt yowled, backing away to stand beside Frostfur. "Quick!"

Suddenly the bracken burst into flame. Frostfur shoved Cloudpaw back and Leafpaw sprang a few tail-lengths away. Cloudpaw's pelt was standing on end as his mentor ordered them to run. Frostfur sprang to her daughter's side, pleading with her to run from the blaze. Cinderpelt didn't speak or move, she just stood still, gazing into the scarlet and orange blaze that leaped hungrily at the brittle stalks.

Is she frozen in fear? Cloudpaw wondered. Skystar had told him about the terrible fire that once swept through the ThunderClan camp. Cinderpelt had survived, but some cats had not, and fire must be especially frightening for the mangled medicine cat.