It was still dark when stabbing pains woke Poolpelt, clutching her stomach like talons.

She staggered to the dirtplace, almost too wrapped in pain to notice the tiny mewling coming from within the nursery.
But when she returned and padded across the snow, she heard soft voices murmuring and soothing the cries.
By the sound of it, Flowertail and Swiftfur were still with Duskwing.

A shadow moved at the edge of the clearing. Amberpaw was creeping out of the apprentices's den.
"Hey!" Poolpelt hissed.
Amberpaw stopped and turned, her eyes flashing in the darkness. Her fur was ruffled, and she looked as wretched as Poolpelt felt.
"Go to get to the dirtplace," she mewed.

"Bad belly?" Poolpelt asked.
Amberpaw nodded. "Icepaw, too."

It must have been the mouse they'd share.
Poolpelt climbed and crept back up to her nest and settled down. Sleep came, but fitfully. Pain haunted her dreams.

"Get off!" Feathershine pushed her away. "You've been kicking me all night!"
"Sorry," Poolpelt groaned. "Bellyache."
Feathershine sat up and blinked sleepily. "Should I get Flowertail?"
Poolpelt shook her head. Her belly was so cramped and sore, she found herself panting between words. "She'll be too busy with the kits,"
Feathershine yawned and curled back down in her nest. "Tell me if you change your mind."

Poolpelt lay blinking in the darkness awhile longer, trying not to fidget. Eventually the urge to use the dirtplace again was too much for her.
She crawled out of the den and climbed down and padded onto the snowy, icy clearing.
Dawn drew a milky haze over the horizon as it began to push back the night sky.
The air was clear and cold, refreshing through Poolpelt.

She paused by the nursery, her ears pricked up. A tiny mew shrilled, then another.
Thank StarClan!
At least two of her kits had survived the night.

Feeling weak, Poolpelt returned from the dirtplace, breathing hard as she padded from the tunnel.
Was that Thornpaw creeping out of the camp through the tunnel? It was early for an apprentice to be heading into the snowy forest alone.
She padded after him, stopping when she reached the entrance to camp.
Silverstar's scent was fresh on the snow-filled branches. She must have been taking Thornpaw out.

Poolpelt turned from the tunnel and headed for her den.
It seemed odd for Silverstar to take Thornpaw out today.
Wouldn't she want to stay in the camp and do her normal visit to the nursery?
Perhaps it was an urgent mission.

She paused in the snowy clearing, still queasy but struggling to understand.
If the mission was urgent, why not take an experienced warrior instead of Thornpaw?

She shook her head, trying to clear it, but the movement only made it spin more.
Unsteadily she climbed up and crept back to her nest and gave in to the drowsiness dragging at her bones.
Aware in her sleep of the warriors moving around her, she half lifted her head. Her belly was sore, but the cramping had stopped.
"Go back to sleep," Feathershine was whispering in her ear. "I'll explain to Icefrost that you're sick."

Too tired to argue, Poolpelt rested her muzzle on her black paws. Then she remembered with a start. "Duskwing?"
"I think she's okay," Feathershine murmured.
Poolpelt closed her eyes.

It was cold in the den when she woke.
Greenleaf snow flowed down on the edges of the entrance to the warrior den, cooling their nests.

Panting, Poolpelt crawled outside and climbed down, breathing the cooler air that wafted across the clearing.
The sun shone high in the sky, and the clearing was empty apart from Stormclaw picking through the fresh-kill pile and Briarpool pacing outside the apprentices's den.
Poolpelt's belly felt as though she'd swallowed thistle, but her head was clearer.

She looked toward the nursery, wondering how Duskwing and her kits were doing. As she watched, Owlpaw slid out. Her pelt was unkempt and her eyes dull.
Poolpelt hurried across the clearing. "How are they?" Her voice rasped in her throat. Owlpaw looked at her, surprised.
"Are you okay?"
"Bad belly."
She sighed. "Icepaw and Amberpaw, too."

She stopped to greet Briarpool. "You wanted me to look at them?"
Briarpool glanced apologetically at her paws. "I know you've been busy, but I'm worried. Icepaw can hardly stand."

Owlpaw nodded and pushed her way into the apprentices's den.
"What about the kits?" Poolpelt called after her.
"Alive." Her reply was flat. "For now, at least."

Poolpelt glanced at Briarpool. "She doesn't sound hopeful."
Briarpool was gazing anxiously after the apprentice medicine cat, clearly more worried about her kit than Duskwing's.

"I had the same bellyache," Poolpelt told her, "and I'm feeling better."
Briarpool jerked her head around. "Did you?"
"We shared a mouse," Poolpelt explained. "It must have been bad."
Briarpool shook her head. "Amberpaw's pretty ill, but Icepaw..." the warrior's voice trailed away.
"She'll recover," Poolpelt reassured her.
"I've never seen her so sick."

Stone scraped as Owlpaw nosed her way out of the apprentices's den. "Herbs would be pointless until they stop being sick. Just make sure they have plenty of water to drink. Find some moss and soak it in the freshest water you can find."
Briarpool nodded and headed for the stone tunnel.

"How are you?" Owlpaw asked Poolpelt.
Poolpelt shrugged. "Just sore and tired."
"Go and ask Flowertail for herbs to sooth your belly," Owlpaw glanced at the nursery. Her eyes glittered with worry.

"Do the kits have names?" Poolpelt asked.
"The she-kits are Maplekit and Needlekit, and the tom is Shadowkit."
"Shadowkit?" Like the ferocious ancient Clan, ShadowClan?
"He's the weakest of the three," Owlpaw mewed bleakly. "I suppose she hopes he's a fighter from the start." His eyes darkened. "He'll need to be."

"Will Duskwing be okay?"
"She's lost blood, but there's no sign of infection," Owlpaw reported. "She'll recover with rest." She looked weary.

"Have you slept at all?" Poolpelt asked.
She shook her head.

"Why don't you rest now?" Poolpelt suggested. "That camp's quiet, and Briarpool's taking care of Icepaw and Amberpaw."
Owlpaw nodded. "Go and get those herbs from Flowertail," she reminded her. "Then I'll have one less cat to worry about." She padded to the shade of Highrock and lay down.

Poolpelt headed along towards the medicine cat den.
"Flowertail!" Poolpelt guessed she was sleeping in her den.
Two eyes appeared in the hole.
Poolpelt tensed.
"Flowertail?" She ventured shakily.

The medicine cat padded out, her pelt ruffled. "What is it?"
"Owlpaw sent me for herbs for my belly. I shared a bad mouse with Icepaw and Amberpaw last night."
"You as well?" She rolled her eyes.
Poolpelt nodded.

"Evil omens."
Poolpelt wondered if she'd heard the medicine cat correctly.
She was muttering as she went inside her den and still muttering as she came out and shoved a pawful of shredded leaves in front of her.
"It was just a bad mouse," she meowed, wondering why she was so upset.
Flowertail leaned toward her. "Just a bad mouse?" She echoed. "What if it was a omen? I should of seen it!"
"How?" Poolpelt backed away. "It didn't taste bad." She realized that Flowertail's pelt wasn't ruffled from being ungroomed, but from sleep.
She took another pace back. "It was just a bad mouse," she repeated.

Flowertail turned a disbelieving look on her. "How can you—you of all cats—ignore the signs?" she spat.
"Me?" What did she mean?
"You have a prophecy hanging over your head like a hawk. You're the bluest flames, and only sun and teeth can destroy you! You can't ignore the signs."
"B-but... I'm just a warrior."

Was she supposed to have the insight of a medicine cat? That wasn't fair. She should be giving her answers, not taunting her with the promise of a destiny she didn't understand.
She had wondered when Flowertail would again speak to her about the prophecy, but now she was making even less sense than before.

"Just a warrior?" Her whiskers trembled. "Too many omens. Three cats poisoned, two only whiskers from StarClan. The kits may not make it through another night. The tom is too weak to mew, let alone feed."
What in StarClan is she talking about?
Poolpelt backed out of the den.

Only whiskers from StarClan.
She dashed to the apprentices's den. Were Icepaw and Amberpaw that ill?
Pushing through the stone as stone scraped, she saw the two apprentices curled in their nests, pelts damp.

Amberpaw raised her head. "Hello, Poolpelt."
Icepaw didn't stir.
Poolpelt padded to Amberpaw and licked the top of her head. "How are you?"
"I've felt better," she croaked.
"Has Briarpool brought you water yet?"
Amberpaw shook her head. "Owlpaw said you were sick, too."
Poolpelt nodded. "I'm feeling better now and so will you."
She glanced at Icepaw. The white she-cat with pale grey paws had began to writhe and groan, her eyes still closed. "You both will," she promised, hoping it was true.

The stone wall scraped as Briarpool padded through. Dripping moss dangled from her jaws.
She placed a wad beside Amberpaw and another beside Icepaw, Amberpaw lapped gratefully, but Icepaw still didn't budge.
Briarpool licked Icepaw fiercely. "Come on, Ice," she encouraged. "Wake up and wet your tongue."
Icepaw struggled to open her eyes. Sniffing at the moss, she lapped at it feebly, then gagged, unable even to keep the water down.

"I'll get Owlpaw," Poolpelt offered.
Briarpool shook her head. "She's sleeping." She stroked Icepaw with her tail as the young cat closed her eyes once more.
"I'll watch over these two." She glanced at Poolpelt. "You should get some fresh air," she suggested. "Outside the ravine."
The stench of the sick apprentices's den was making Poolpelt uneasy belly churn. "Okay."

She headed outside of the stone den, relieved to feel clean fur on her face. The snowy forest air would be even fresher. She headed out of the camp, glancing at Owlpaw where she slept in the shadow of Highrock.

The climb up the ravine left her breathless. She was thankful for the cold breeze wafting through the snowy forest, and she wandered among the snowy trees feeling glad to be away from the sickness and worry of camp.
Birds called to one another, their song echoing through the snowy trees.
Frozen leaves brushed Poolpelt's pelt as she padded along the familiar tracks with fallen frozen leaves.

The shadows darkening her thoughts began to fade.
StarClan would protect them.

A butterfly fluttered a few tail-lengths ahead, buffeted by the breeze.
Suddenly, the frozen ferns trembled, and a bulky golden-brown shape exploded from the icy stalks.

"Got you!" Thornpaw leaped for the butterfly, paws flailing, but the insect jerked upward out of his reach. "Fox dung."
He dropped into all four paws and watched the butterfly disappear through the snowy branches.
His eyes were sparkling, and he clawed excitedly at the snow, muttering to himself, "I'll get the next one!"
Then he spotted Poolpelt. "Hi!" he mewed cheerfully.

Where's Silverstar?
Poolpelt tasted the air: no sign of the IceClan leader.
She narrowed her eyes. She and Thornpaw left the camp together.

"What are you doing?" Had Silverstar sent him hunting? Wouldn't Ashfall be wondering where her apprentice went?
Thornpaw stared at her, blinking. "Doing?" There was an awkwardness in his mew, as if he was suddenly on the defensive. "Nothing, really. I just missed that butterfly."

"Where's Silverstar?" She prompted.
Thornpaw opened and closed his mouth. "Silverstar?"
"You know, Silverstar." Poolpelt tried to ease the awkwardness by joking. "Silver she-cat? Clan leader? You went out with her this morning."

"Did I?" Thornpaw shifted his paws. "I mean, you saw us go?"
Poolpelt didn't want Thornpaw to think she'd been spying. "I smelled your scent while I was going to the dirtplace. It just seemed odd that you went out before the dawn patrol."
Thornpaw's gaze flittered around the snowy forest, resting on anything but Poolpelt. "Well, Silverstar wanted an early start. Training."
"Oh." Poolpelt wasn't convinced. Training you to catch butterflies? She resisted the question. "Did it go well?"

"Fine!" Thornpaw circled restlessly. "More than fine. Great. Silverstar's great. She's brilliant."
Poolpelt tipped her head to one side. "So where is she now?"
"She's in her way back. I...she...she said I couldn't tell any cat what she'd done." Thornpaw shut his mouth, eyes round with dismay. "I mean, where we were." He looked at his paws. "Sorry. Secret."

He scampered past Poolpelt, and she felt his pelt pricking up as it brushed hers. She let him escape into the snowy trees without trying to stop him.
Then a scent touched her tongue.
A familiar scent.
She thought for a moment. What was it?
Catmint! Thornpaw's pelt smelled of catmint.

Had they been to Twolegplace? Was that the "secret"?
Her black paws prickled. Had they hunted at Twolegplace?
Surely Silverstar wasn't encouraging the apprentices to hunt at Twolegplace?
Her fears rose. Surely Silverstar won't encourage apprentices to mingle with kittypets.
The whole Clan would be like Sunpaw.
I won't let that happen, she thought fiercely.
She dashed after Thornpaw.

Thornpaw was already halfway down the ravine.
She scrabbled down the rocks after him.

"Hey!" Hawkflame's yowl sounded below. "Stop throwing rocks!"
She skidded to a halt, realizing that her black paws were sending showers of stones down the slope. "Sorry!" she called.
She waited while Hawkflame led his patrol up the trail past her.
"Be more careful next time," Hawkflame scolded.
Poolpelt hung her head as Snowheart, Swiftfur, and Braveheart filed after him.
"Don't worry," Braveheart whispered. "We've all done it."

As soon as they'd gone, Poolpelt scrambled down the ravine, more carefully this time.
She headed into the clearing and saw Thornpaw settling down with a piece of prey.
At least he was alone.

Where did he get prey? From Twolegplace?
Had Silverstar got him to hunt there?

The stone tunnel scraped, and Silverstar padded into camp.
Fox dung!

The IceClan leader looked calm, her pelt smooth and smelled strongly of bracken as if she had been rolling in fresh ferns.
Why?
It was obvious.
To get rid of the scent of catmint and Twolegs!
How could she? She was their leader, for StarClan's sake!

Silverstar headed straight for the nursery.
Flowertail slid out as she approached. "Duskwing's sleeping," she told the IceClan leader. "The kits, too, since they've had some milk at last."
Silverstar twitched the tip of her tail. "Can I see them?"
Flowertail stood aside. "The tom's the weakest," she warned as Silverstar padded into the nursery.

Briarpool padded over to join Swiftfur. "About time, too," she meowed, not bothering to keep her voice quiet. "If Duskwing's kits had died in the night, they'd have gone to StarClan without even meeting their Clan leader."

Poolpelt glanced at her black paws.
She wasn't the only cat in IceClan questioning Silverstar's loyalty.

But she suspected she was the only one who knew just how far from the warrior code she was straying.