Maplepaw's Redemption

CHAPTER 20

Waking up next to Yew in her nest in the Lesser Oak Crash, Mapledawn could hardly believe just a few sunrises before she'd had Frecklefang's throat under her claws while shadows goaded her to kill. It seemed like a lifetime ago. The sun here was mellow and calm, its rays golden. Yew stirred and stretched, then set to grooming his fur and his strange, huge ears. The air was chilly and fragrant. It would be leaf-fall by the next full moon.

I'll miss going to gatherings. Listening to the other Clans' gossip. But it was alright. There was plenty here to fill those gaps. She opened her maw; unfamiliar cat-scents bathed her tongue. There were other rogues here, loners, whatever they were called didn't matter. Travelers. Wanderers. Did Clan cats ever find this place? It wasn't that far, really. Not as far as the mountains, and Clan cats had evidently visited there at least once, to be able include the word "Tribe" in their far-back lore.

"You look ready." How could such a big cat be so stealthy? She hadn't even smelled Waiting Falcon's approach.

"I'm ready."

"I'll leave you two alone," said Yew with a little knowing smile. What? Mapledawn's pelt grew hot. We just met.

"Right. Lesser Oak Crash, you've seen that. We'll start with the herb gardens and work our way around." Waiting Falcon walked with an air of serene detachment as he showed Mapledawn around. The herb garden was beautiful; back in the Clans, Cloudstep occasionally nurtured plants with water, but he never actually planted them. Various herbs stood in rows and bushes, some growing in direct sun, some under shade, some dry, some marshy. She recognized a few of the herbs Mist Shadow had pointed out--the red flowers were obviously poppy, the white-and-yellow ones chamomile. And the heady-scented catmint, growing in wild, many-branched bushels, was unmistakable. Mapledawn felt giddy just smelling them.

Imagine if FireClan did this. She found her claws unsheathing with excitement. We'd never have to worry about greencough again, even in leafbare! We could even add on to the warrior code, saying no cat from any Clan must put another Clan's precious herb garden in danger... Mapledawn had been lucky not to see any serious illnesses in her lifetime, but she knew that could change at any moment. Webclaw's era had seen many deaths from greencough just because the Clan didn't have enough catmint saved!

"Where've you gone?" Waiting Falcon tilted his head. "Daydreaming about herbs?"

"Just thinking about home." Mapledawn paused. "My old home. You cats have so many ways of living that would improve life back in the Clans. Like this herb garden." She gestured with her tail toward the even rows. "We have three times as many cats in our territory, and we have to rely on what herbs we can forage in the forest. We don't grow any. We don't know how."

"You don't allow outsiders in, do you? No pet cats, no rogues, no loners, no travelers?" Waiting Falcon nodded thoughtfully. "I've known groups like that. So very proud, so very haughty. They stagnate, Mapledawn, without new blood. They keep repeating the same traditions, clinging to them like burrs on a pelt. Repeating sameness, like you talked about yesterday."

"But... we have a code--"

"And I'm sure it's a good one. I'm sure it's kept you alive in past troubles. But what troubles do your Clans have now, Mapledawn? How does your code serve them? We must never be afraid to let the old fall away in place of something better."

"Maybe..." Mapledawn took stock of the tidy herb garden. "Maybe you're right."

"Come. More to show you." They crested a hill beyond the herb garden, followed a thin creek, and stopped before a little tree-shrouded clearing full of brush piles. "Rat Grounds. Best place to hunt in the cold months. We mostly leave it alone when it's warm, though. Rats make excellent prey, but a swarm of them can kill a cat."

"Rats?" Mapledawn curled her lip. "Only BlackClan eats rats."

"These rats don't eat refuse, if that's what you're thinking. They eat what everything else around here eats, so they don't really carry sickness. Over to the right there is a meadow with tall grass, good for mice and voles. You can catch thrushes and robins there if you know how to bat a bird out of the air. Those beech trees are great for prey, too. But let me show you something else. It's a bit of a walk. Are you up for it?"

Mapledawn nodded. She felt fine--better than she had in a long time. She was a little tired, but she chalked that up to spending too many days in a nest. She could hardly be surprised to find herself a bit weary after almost dying from a raging fever caused by a festering wound. She was only a little out of breath when Waiting Falcon lead her through a beech copse and into a dip in the ground.

"What is that?" The earth opened into a dark mouth, wafting scents of cool water. It's like... She crept forward. Delicate reeds closed in toward the mouth. A thin trickle of water came from it, partly hidden by undergrowth. It's like the Moonpool! A flash of terror coiled and uncoiled in Mapledawn's memory. Does that mean they can find me again?

Waiting Falcon nudged her gently forward. "It's just water," he said. "Even if it echoes with the footprints of long-dead cats."