//Un//masked

// chapter 13 //

    Nightpaw woke at sunrise to find Cinderpaw beside him, flank rising and falling softly as she slept. Flamepaw stirred not too far off, mouth stretched wide in a yawn, while Dapplepaw, Cherrypaw, Bramblepaw and Shadepaw continued to sleep peacefully. Wrenpaw was nowhere to be found.

    Rising to his paws, the tom let out a pained hiss as he stretched. He had forgotten about the wounds in his throat. The marigold paste and cobwebs Mothpaw applied the previous night seemed to be doing their work, but Nightpaw decided to give the healers a visit just to make sure.

    The camp was silent as he padded across it, entering the healer's den through the tunnel beneath one of the High Rocks. The den smelled both sweet and bitter, a strange mixture of tang and zest. He spotted Mothpaw's sleeping form near the back.

    Before he could reach her, Cedarheart stepped out of the medicine storage to block his path.

    "What did you need?" the healer asked politely, looking over the cobwebs around Nightpaw's neck. The brown tabby seemed impressed with his apprentice's work.

    "Just wanted to get my wounds checked," the apprentice replied. "I wouldn't want Mothpaw held responsible for any illness."

    Cedarheart seemed taken aback by Nightpaw's response, but did as told. Gathering some fresh cobwebs and marigold, he set to work removing the old bandage and applying a new one.

    Nightpaw flinched as the healer applied the marigold on the still stinging wounds, but the pain disappeared quickly as the herbs began to work their magic. Looking at the rows upon rows of herbs in the healer's storage, Nightpaw wondered about each of their uses and how the healers could possibly remember all of them.

    "You should be just fine," Cedarheart said, disposing of the old dressings. "Another three or four sunsets and you won't even need the cobwebs anymore."

    "Thank you," Nightpaw said, dipping his head. Again, Cedarheart seemed surprised, but the healer hid it with a flick of his tail.

    "It's my job," the tabby replied. "Or, it was."

    Nightpaw blinked his white-rimmed eyes, saddened by the fear and defeat in the healer's voice. The same thoughts that he'd battled with the previous night hit him once more, but the idea of saying StarClan out loud only made the danger more real.

    "Don't worry about Mothpaw," Cedarheart advised. "Until I'm gone, she gets no blame for any death or sickness. It is only after they dispose of me that she takes on full responsibility."

    "How long until that happens?" Nightpaw couldn't help but ask.

    The tabby's amber eyes regarded him with curiosity. "However long Dawnstar deems appropriate. Now off you go to your mentor. I wouldn't want you caught fraternizing with the likes of me."

    Deeply confused by the healer's choice of words, Nightpaw dipped his head. Careful to keep the new cobwebs clean, he padded out of the den slowly, catching sight of round, red berries near the storage as he left.

//

    The guardians kept an unbearably close watch on the truth-teller and his apprentice after Sedgecloud's attack, following them like shadows. Hailwatcher didn't seem to mind, but Nightpaw could feel his own frustration growing with each sunset. He longed to be given some respite from their over-protection, even though the thought of the caretaker's claws against his throat still sent chills through him.

    The apprentice finally got his wish a quarter moon later, when Hailwatcher sent the guardians away to hunt and led Nightpaw to Dawnstar's den. Inside, the tom was surprised to see Cedarheart, who dipped his head in greeting, and Sleetfur, the deputy.