Twigpaw plunged in among the plants and began to pick the stems, biting them off carefully toward the bottom. The other cats followed her more slowly; Featherpelt began picking herbs for WindClan, while Hootwhisker and Larkwing kept watch on the RiverClan territory across the stream.

Alderheart was padding up to the nearest clump of watermint when a yowl of alarm came from Twigpaw. Alderheart spun around to see her tottering on the very edge of the stream. She would have fallen in if Sparkpelt hadn’t dived forward through the herbs, grabbed her by the scruff, and dragged her back to safety.

“Stupid furball!” Sparkpelt snapped, standing over her apprentice with her tail lashing. “I told you to be careful. And she dropped all her watermint into the stream,” she added to Alderheart as he hurried up. Her voice was loud, echoing for fox-lengths, and Alderheart was worried that the noise, along with Twigpaw’s yowling, would attract attention from RiverClan across the stream.

“Never mind; there’s plenty more,” Alderheart pointed out. “Twigpaw, are you okay?”

Twigpaw nodded; she was looking particularly miserable. “I’m sorry,” she mewed. “I was only trying to help. The edge of the bank gave way under my paws.”

“Well, think what you’re doing in the future.” Sparkpelt still looked annoyed, though Alderheart guessed she had been afraid that her apprentice would be hurt, or even drowned. “Stay by me from now on. Alderheart, you’d better do the picking.”

Alderheart headed for the clumps, but before he could reach the nearest, he heard a swishing sound from RiverClan territory, and looked up to see two RiverClan warriors emerge from the reeds on the far side of the stream.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Shimmerpelt, in the lead, halted at the water’s edge and glared across at Alderheart and the others, her silver-gray pelt fluffing up. “Let me remind you that our border is closed. Now kindly leave the watermint where it is, and get lost, or I’ll call up reinforcements.”

“Excuse me,” Sparkpelt retorted, stepping up beside Alderheart. “Do you see any of us on RiverClan territory? If we were to ask permission, it would be from WindClan. Besides, this is medicine-cat business. We have the right to take watermint for our sick Clanmates. That’s the warrior code!”

Shimmerpelt looked harassed, exchanging an uncertain glance with her Clanmate Havenpelt. “Please don’t make trouble,” she meowed. “Just go!”

Alderheart wondered whether Mistystar’s insistence on closing her borders had left her own warriors agitated and unsure. He slapped his tail across Sparkpelt’s muzzle as she drew breath for an angry response.

“We understand the problem,” he began, dipping his head respectfully to the RiverClan cats. “Would you allow us to cross so we can explain to Mistystar why we are so close to your territory?”

“We don’t need permission to be here,” Sparkpelt growled softly behind him, but Alderheart ignored her.