The Apprentice's Quest (8 page)

“I doubt it,” Alderpaw responded.
I don't feel ready to be heroic.

“What?” Needlepaw had obviously overheard. “
No
ThunderClan cat is better at finding things than
any
ShadowClan cat!”

“You
would
say that!” Sparkpaw flashed back at her. “Just you wait and see!”

“I think the whole idea is silly,” Sleekpaw mewed disdainfully, though Alderpaw noticed that she kept her voice low while she said it. “Prophecies and StarClan and all that stuff are just ridiculous!”

Alderpaw and Sparkpaw exchanged a shocked glance.
Does Sleekpaw not believe in StarClan?
Alderpaw wondered.
That's terrible!
He thought that Needlepaw and Beepaw were shocked too, silent for a few heartbeats, even though they finally forced
out short purrs of laughter.

A sudden prickling sensation at the back of his neck made Alderpaw feel that some cat was looking at him. He glanced over his shoulder toward the Great Oak, and his pelt began to prickle with alarm. Seated at the foot of the tree with the other medicine cats, Leafpool was staring directly at him.

Why?

“Alderpaw, will you concentrate!” Molewhisker gave
an irritable lash of his tail. “Any kit could learn this move.”

The two apprentices were battle training with their mentors in a clearing near the camp. Molewhisker was teaching them to rear up on their hind paws so they could attack their opponent from above. Sparkpaw had gotten the idea right away, and Alderpaw's ears were smarting from the blows she had landed on him. But somehow every time he tried it, he would overbalance, or Sparkpaw would slip aside before his blows could connect.

Alderpaw knew exactly why he couldn't give all his attention to training. He couldn't shake the uneasy feeling Leafpool's gaze had given him at the Gathering the night before. Why was she always
staring
at him? Until recently, neither of the medicine cats had paid any attention to him, apart from the time he had gotten a thorn in his paw when he was a kit. Now he felt as if they were aware of him all the time.
I don't like it,
he told himself.

“That's enough battle training for today,” Molewhisker meowed with a sigh. “Cherryfall, why don't you and Sparkpaw
collect your prey from earlier? Alderpaw, you and I will try hunting in another part of the forest.”

“Okay,” Cherryfall agreed. “We might see what else we can catch on the way back. Good luck, Alderpaw.”

She and Sparkpaw headed back toward the camp. Sparkpaw had a bounce in her step; in the earlier hunting session she had caught a fat thrush and a squirrel, and Cherryfall couldn't praise her highly enough.

“Come on, Alderpaw.” Molewhisker turned to pad deeper into the forest. “Maybe you'll hunt better without your littermate close by.”

Fat chance,
Alderpaw thought gloomily as he followed his mentor.
I haven't caught anything yet. Not just today, but
ever
. Sparkpaw catches stuff all the time.

Once again his thoughts drifted back to Leafpool's steady gaze on him.
Medicine cats know things,
he reflected.
Maybe she knows that there's something wrong with me, and I'll never be a good warrior.

He was worrying so much that he didn't realize Molewhisker had halted and was speaking to him. All he heard was the final words: “. . . try doing it that way.”

“Sorry,” he mewed. “Would you mind saying that again?”

Molewhisker flexed his claws, and his voice was sharp as he replied. “Alderpaw, you need to pay attention. A cat who can't hunt is no good to his Clan.”

Alderpaw flinched at the harsh tone. Molewhisker gazed at him and sighed, shaking his head slightly. He was obviously making a massive effort to regain his patience.

“I want you to focus very intensely on one small area at a time while you're looking for prey,” he meowed. “Don't open your ears and nose to all the territory around you.”

“Okay, I'll try,” Alderpaw responded.

After glancing around, he picked out the undergrowth at the foot of an oak tree and concentrated all his senses on it. Eventually he heard something scratching among the tree roots; tasting the air, he recognized the scent of mouse.

Alderpaw dropped into the hunter's crouch and crept forward. He remembered everything Molewhisker had taught him: to keep low, his belly fur brushing the ground, and to keep his tail curled against his side.

He set down his paws as lightly as he could, and as he drew closer to the tree, his whole pelt tingled with the thought of victory.
This time I'm going to do it. . . . I'm sure of it!

Now he could see the small, gray body of the mouse crouched behind a tuft of long grass. His jaws were already watering at the anticipated taste of prey. But just as he was readying himself to pounce, a twig cracked underneath his forepaw. With a flicker, the mouse was gone.

Alderpaw halted, letting out a growl of frustration. He didn't dare look at Molewhisker until his mentor stood right over him.

Molewhisker's tail-tip was twitching in agitation. “Maybe that's enough for today,” he meowed, his voice tightly controlled.

He was silent as he led the way back to camp, and Alderpaw followed in a fog of despair.
It's all going wrong! Whoever heard of a
warrior who can't fight and can't hunt?

As soon as they emerged from the thorn tunnel into the camp, Bramblestar bounded over to them. “Molewhisker, I need a word with you,” he meowed. “Come up to my den.”

“Okay, Bramblestar.” Molewhisker glanced back as he followed his leader toward the tumbled rocks. “Alderpaw, you can get something to eat.”

Alderpaw trudged over to the fresh-kill pile. Sparkpaw was already there, tucking into the thrush she had caught. “How did it go?” she asked.

“Awful,” Alderpaw replied. “I missed
another
really easy catch.”

“Oh, mouse dung!” Sparkpaw's gaze was sympathetic, and she pressed her muzzle briefly into Alderpaw's shoulder. “Never mind. You can share this thrush. There's plenty.”

“Thanks,” Alderpaw mewed miserably.
Am I always going to depend on other cats for food?

As he took his first bite, Sparkpaw glanced curiously up at Bramblestar's den on the Highledge. “Are you in trouble?” she asked. “Is that why Bramblestar is talking to Molewhisker?”

Alderpaw's belly lurched.
I never thought of that. I was just so relieved to have the training over.
“Of course not,” he responded, gazing nervously up at the Highledge. But he couldn't keep a quaver out of his voice, and he knew Sparkpaw realized he didn't believe what he was saying.

As he watched, Bramblestar and Molewhisker emerged from the den, Jayfeather and Leafpool walking in their wake. All four cats climbed down the tumbled rocks to the ground.
Bramblestar waved his tail to beckon Alderpaw.
Oh, StarClan! It
is
about me,
Alderpaw thought. Exchanging a glance with his sister, he swallowed and headed toward his Clan leader.

“I know you've been working hard as an apprentice,” Bramblestar began as Alderpaw joined him. His voice and his eyes were kind. “I'm really proud of all you've learned. But sometimes a cat can find himself halfway down the wrong path.”

Alderpaw blinked at his father. “I don't understand.”

Bramblestar's eyes softened. “It appears that you now have a new destiny: you're going to be a medicine-cat apprentice.”

Alderpaw gaped. “What?” He had expected to be punished for his failure, but never that he would be taken away from Molewhisker altogether. “I'm not going to be a warrior anymore?”

Bramblestar nodded to the two medicine cats. “Leafpool and Jayfeather saw your new destiny in a vision.”

“But I
can't
!” Alderpaw had never in his wildest imaginings thought of being a medicine cat.
I'd be even more useless at that!

Besides, he couldn't really believe in this vision. Surely it was just an excuse so that Bramblestar could protect his feelings.
Leafpool and Jayfeather don't need another medicine cat,
he thought. He was so horrified and humiliated that he wanted to flee from the camp and run and run until he was far away from any cat who knew about his failure.

“Please,”
he begged. “I promise I'll do better. I'll listen to Molewhisker and try really hard!”

“I know you've already been trying hard,” Molewhisker told him sympathetically. “I'm not angry with you.”

Leafpool took a step forward. “This isn't a punishment,” she explained. “Jayfeather and I asked Bramblestar for this.”

“They said they believe you'll be able to talk with StarClan,” Bramblestar put in.

Alderpaw began to realize that his Clan leader, his
father
, wouldn't lie to him. But he was still doubtful.
I can't think what's given Leafpool and Jayfeather the idea that I can speak to StarClan.
“Isn't there anything I can do to make you change your mind?” he asked desperately.

Bramblestar shook his head. “It has nothing to do with
me
,” he replied. “It is the will of StarClan. This is what you are meant to do.”

Realizing it would do no good to keep on arguing, Alderpaw took a deep breath. “Okay,” he sighed. When Bramblestar dismissed him with a nod, he staggered back to where Sparkpaw was still eating, and stared blankly at the remains of the thrush.
I'm not hungry anymore.

“What did Bramblestar and Molewhisker want to tell you?” Sparkpaw asked curiously.

“They said . . .” Alderpaw's voice was trembling; he took a breath and started again. “They said I have to be a medicine-cat apprentice.”

Sparkpaw's eyes stretched wide with amazement. “That's great!” she exclaimed. “Medicine cats are really important.” Then she seemed to realize how unhappy Alderpaw was feeling and added more sympathetically, “But it doesn't seem like it's as much
fun
to be a medicine cat as it is to be a regular warrior. All those icky herbs!” She blinked thoughtfully for a
moment. “Maybe that's why you're so bad at hunting—you're meant to be a medicine cat.”

Alderpaw felt as if he wanted to retch up every piece of prey he had ever eaten.
I'm sure that's why they want me to be a medicine cat: not because I'm special and important, but because I'm no good as a warrior apprentice.

He swallowed hard, feeling as if there were a tight knot in his chest.
Well, I'll just show them! I'm going to be the best medicine-cat apprentice I can be,
he resolved.
I'll try really hard, and make Bramblestar and Squirrelflight proud.

But deep down inside, Alderpaw wasn't sure he could do it.
I'm not
really
a medicine cat. I'm not . . . special enough.

A chilly dawn mist filled the stone hollow as Alderpaw tumbled out of his den. Sparkpaw was still snoring peacefully in her mossy nest. He arched his back in a good long stretch, then headed out into the camp.

Most of his Clanmates were still asleep, though Squirrelflight was standing outside the warriors' den, organizing the dawn patrol with Brackenfur, Berrynose, and Brightheart.

“You're up early,” she remarked to Alderpaw as he padded past.

“Jayfeather wants me in the medicine cats' den,” Alderpaw responded.

“Best not be late, then,” his mother mewed, giving him a swift lick around the ears. “But get yourself some fresh-kill first. You can't learn on an empty belly.”

“Thanks!” Alderpaw darted to the fresh-kill pile, grabbed a shrew, and gulped it down.

This was Alderpaw's second day as a medicine-cat apprentice. The day before, he had sat in a corner of the den, watching and trying to keep out of the way. But Leafpool had said that today he would start helping.

Part of him was looking forward to that, but Alderpaw was sure that Jayfeather, who was always so snappy and short-tempered, didn't really want him there.
Leafpool is much kinder,
he thought with a sigh,
but I wish she would stop giving me funny looks.

Both medicine cats slept in the den, along with Briarlight, whose hind legs didn't work, and any other sick cats who needed constant attention. It was so crowded that Jayfeather and Leafpool had decided that for the time being Alderpaw should still sleep in the apprentices' den with Sparkpaw. Alderpaw was glad to be with his littermate, but it made him feel even more that he wasn't a real medicine cat. His pelt felt hot with jealousy all over again when he remembered the previous night: Sparkpaw had told him all about going on a border patrol with Cherryfall and the other cats.
Why can't I just be normal and a good warrior apprentice like Sparkpaw?
he thought with a sigh. Then he braced himself.
I won't think like that anymore. I'm going to do the best I can. I'm not going to fail at this too.

As soon as Alderpaw pushed his way past the bramble screen in front of the medicine cats' den, Jayfeather turned from where he was rooting among the herbs in the cleft at the back. “You're late,” he snapped.