Eclipse

Chapter 5

Leafpool was sharing a mouse with Cloudtail when Jaypaw nosed his way out of the medicine cat den and padded to the fresh-kill pile.

There was plenty of prey to choose from. Hunting patrols had already stacked it full, and it was hardly sunhigh. As he dragged a shrew from the bottom—so fresh it still felt warm—the image of Cinderpelt starving in the snowy camp flashed in his mind. Was Leafpool thinking of her old mentor as she ate her meal?

“Jaypaw!” Graystripe was bounding across the clearing toward him. The warrior skidded to a halt. “Eat up! We’re going hunting.”

“Me?” Jaypaw’s heart soared.

“Sorreltail, Mousewhisker, and I will be hunting,” Graystripe corrected him. He must have realized Jaypaw’s disappointment. He whisked his tail along Jaypaw’s flank.

“You’ve got a more important job. Leafpool wants you to come with us to gather herbs.”

Great. Jaypaw suddenly didn’t feel hungry anymore. He shoved the shrew back under the pile. “I’ll eat when I get back.”

“We’re going down to the lake,” Graystripe went on.

“The lake?” Jaypaw felt a glimmer of interest. The notched stick was on the shore; it was his link to the ancient cats from the tunnels. Maybe to even greater mysteries, if he could just understand what all the claw marks meant. “I guess it’ll be good to get out of camp and stretch my legs.”

“That’s more like it.” Graystripe turned and headed toward the thorn tunnel. Jaypaw could hear Sorreltail and Mousewhisker pacing there impatiently. He hurried after Graystripe, and together the patrol headed out into the forest.

Mousewhisker—only recently made a warrior—was buzzing with excitement. “I hope I catch something good! Maybe a squirrel.”

Graystripe purred. “Look out, squirrels!”

The woods were drowsy with heat, the undergrowth limp and fragrant as Jaypaw brushed past it, the air humming with bees. Mousewhisker’s paws thrummed on the leaf-strewn floor as he dashed on ahead. Graystripe hurried after him.

“I wish it could be greenleaf forever.” Sorreltail was padding beside Jaypaw, letting her pelt brush his.

“Yeah.” He drew away from her. He knew this part of the forest well enough not to need guiding. Pushing hard against the leafy forest floor, he broke into a run and charged along the familiar track.

“Wait for me!” Sorreltail called in surprise.

They caught up to Graystripe and Mousewhisker at the top of the rise. The trees ended here as the forest turned to grassland, sloping down to the lake.

Mousewhisker was panting.

“He almost got his squirrel,” Graystripe meowed proudly.

“But it scooted up that tree.”

Leaves rustled overhead.

“If that dumb blackbird hadn’t called the alarm,” Mousewhisker grumbled.

“You’ll get the next one,” Graystripe told him encouragingly.

Sorreltail kneaded the ground. “I can’t wait to hunt with my kits when they’re warriors.” Pride warmed her mew.

“Honeypaw, Poppypaw, and Cinderpaw will be having their assessment any day now.”

Jaypaw tensed. Was Cinderpaw’s leg really strong enough?

“It’ll be great having them in our den,” Mousewhisker put in. “It might stop the old warriors from hogging the best nests and stealing all the softest moss.”

Graystripe purred with amusement. “We old warriors need the soft moss for our poor ancient bones.”

“I didn’t mean you two!” Mousewhisker mewed, sounding embarrassed.

“I’m sure Thornclaw and Dustpelt will be pleased to hear that,” Sorreltail teased.

“You won’t tell them?” Mousewhisker squeaked in alarm.

“Of course not!” Sorreltail called over her shoulder as she darted down the slope. “Besides, we’re not old. And once Millie’s kits are born, Graystripe will feel younger than ever.”

Jaypaw hurried after her, enjoying the breeze ruffling his fur. It smelled of the lake.

At the shore, Graystripe paused. “Is this a good place for herbs?”

Jaypaw nodded. “I can get mallow down by the water.”

“Mousewhisker can help you,” Sorreltail volunteered her denmate.

“But what about my—”

“Your squirrel can wait,” Graystripe meowed.

“I guess so.” Mousewhisker swished his tail. “Besides, if we’re going down to the water, I might catch a fish!”

Unlikely, unless you’ve had a RiverClan mentor as well. Jaypaw picked his way down onto the shingle. It shifted satisfyingly beneath his paws.

Mousewhisker padded after him. “The lake’s as smooth as a laurel leaf.”

Jaypaw had guessed that already. He could hear the sound of lazy ripples lapping the shore.

“What does mallow look like?” Mousewhisker asked.

Jaypaw shrugged. “Never seen any.”

Mousewhisker squeaked in dismay. “Sorry!”

“Forget it.” It was just a dumb slip. “It feels soft and kind of furry. The leaves are big.” Jaypaw sniffed the air. He remembered gathering mallow here before. Sure enough, a sweet smell filled his nose. Jaypaw flicked his tail toward the water’s edge. “See that plant over there? That’s mallow.”

“Really?” Mousewhisker sounded impressed.

Jaypaw didn’t bother to reply. His paws had started to tingle. The stick must be just along the shore. “Would you go and gather some leaves?” Jaypaw asked. “There’s something farther up the shore I want to check.”

“Okay.” Mousewhisker began to hurry down to the water.

“How much do you want?”

“As much as you can carry!” Jaypaw veered away, heading along the beach. He padded to the tree line, where twisting roots spilled over onto the pebbles, and sniffed around the gnarled bark until he scented the stick. It was still where he had wedged it, beneath the root of a rowan, safe from the pull of the lake.

He dragged it out, relief flooding his paws as they felt the smoothness of the exposed wood. This was definitely the right stick. Running his pads along its length he felt the familiar scratches. He knew so much more about what they meant than when he had first found it: They marked the successes and failures of countless cats—of Fallen Leaves and his Clanmates. And yet there was so much more to know; this stick only hinted at the lives of the cats who came before him. He wondered about the Clan who had used the tunnels as the test of a warrior. And the Tribe. Were they somehow linked?

Were all Clans, Tribes, whatever, however different, somehow connected?

Mousewhisker was splashing toward him, reeking of mallow. Jaypaw, clumsy with haste, shoved the stick back behind the tree root. The shingle crunched as the warrior climbed the beach.

“What are you doing?” Mousewhisker’s mew was muffled by mallow leaves.

“Just checking something.”

Mousewhisker spat the leaves onto the shore. “A stick?”

“It’s not important,” Jaypaw lied. “It’s medicine cat stuff, nothing you’d understand.” He braced himself for a flurry of questions.

But Mousewhisker simply began scraping the mallow leaves into a pile. “Whatever you say. I’m not an apprentice anymore,” he meowed. “I’m a warrior—I hunt and fight. I’ll leave the weird medicine stuff up to you.” His mew grew muffled again as he began to gather up the leaves. “I’m just glad I don’t have to remember everything you do.”

You don’t know the half of it…

Graystripe’s mew sounded from up on the bank. “Did you catch your fish, Mousewhisker?”

“No, but I caught some mallow!”

Leaves sprayed Jaypaw as Mousewhisker answered. Jaypaw stifled a frustrated hiss and collected the dropped leaves in his mouth. Then he followed Mousewhisker onto the bank, where Graystripe and Sorreltail were waiting. From the smell of it they’d caught mice. Jaypaw’s belly grumbled, and he wished he’d eaten when he’d had the chance.

“Let’s get these back to camp,” Sorreltail meowed. “It sounds like someone’s hungry.” She turned and darted up the grassy hillside, back toward the forest.

As they topped the ridge and began to head home, Jaypaw halted.

“What is it?” Graystripe asked.

“A patrol, heading this way.” The air was filled with their scent.

A moment later Jaypaw heard Thornclaw and his apprentice, Poppypaw, crashing through the undergrowth. Brightheart and Birchfall were close behind. Excitement pulsed from them.

They burst out of the bushes onto the ridge.

“WindClan have crossed the border!” Brightheart burst out.

Graystripe dropped his mouse. “Are they in ThunderClan territory now?”

“No,” Thornclaw growled. “But the scents are fresh. It looks like they didn’t listen to Firestar’s last warning, and they’ve been hunting in our territory again.”

“Have you remarked the borders?” Graystripe asked.

“We did it straightaway.” Birchfall was pacing agitatedly around his Clanmates.

“Good.” Graystripe’s claws scraped the ground. “We must report this to Firestar at once.”

The camp was wrapped in the same greenleaf sleepiness as the forest, and hardly any cat stirred as the patrol rushed into the clearing.

“Brightheart?” Cloudtail’s dozy mew sounded from outside the warriors’ den. “Where are you going?”

“I’ll be right back,” Brightheart promised as she scrambled up to Highledge after Thornclaw.

Mousewhisker dropped his mouthful of mallow leaves beside Jaypaw. “Can you manage these?” he asked. “I want to go tell Berrynose and Hazeltail what’s happened.”

This was the first crisis since Mousewhisker had been made a warrior. Jaypaw didn’t begrudge him his excitement.

“No problem.”

As Mousewhisker hurried away, Jaypaw dropped his own mouthful of leaves onto the pile and began to bundle them together, ready to take to the medicine cat den.

“Can I help?” Hollypaw was padding toward him.

“Yes, please.” Jaypaw was sick of the taste of mallow.

“What’s all the fuss about?” Hollypaw pawed some leaves into a pile of her own.

“WindClan have crossed the border again.”

Hollypaw’s pelt bristled. “I would have thought after last time…”

Jaypaw shrugged. Clearly, rescuing WindClan kits wasn’t enough to appease their increasingly hostile neighbors. He braced himself for an indignant speech about how true warriors respected borders, and was surprised to find something else was on Hollypaw’s mind.

“Cinderpaw just told me her assessment’s tomorrow,” she mewed.

Jaypaw stiffened. So soon? “Has Cinderpaw ever complained about her leg hurting?” he asked quietly.

“What?” Hollypaw leaned in closer. “Why? What’s the matter? She’s better, isn’t she?”

Jaypaw nodded. “Leafpool says she is.”

“Well, there’s nothing to worry about then.” Hollypaw sighed. “I wish I could watch.”

“Cinderpaw’s assessment?” An idea sparked in Jaypaw’s mind.

“Of course!”

Jaypaw thought fast. He could keep an eye on her while she was tested. Check that everything was really all right. “Why don’t we?”

“Watch her assessment?” Hollypaw gasped. “But that’s not allowed, surely?”

“Is that part of the warrior code?”

“What are you two talking about?” Lionpaw padded up behind Hollypaw.

“We were thinking about watching Cinderpaw’s assessment tomorrow,” Hollypaw explained.

“Is that allowed?” Lionpaw echoed his sister.

“I doubt it,” Jaypaw mewed. “But we weren’t planning on announcing it from Highledge.”

“Let’s do it!” Lionpaw decided.

“If anyone catches us,” Hollypaw mewed, “we can say we were just trying to get some tips before our own assessment.

No warrior could object to that.”

Birds chittering in the trees above the hollow woke Jaypaw.

Dawn. He stretched and climbed out of his nest, shivering.

Early morning had brought a chill to the hollow, reminding him that leaf-fall would soon be here. He gave his paws and face a quick wash. The assessment would start early, and he had promised to meet Lionpaw and Hollypaw outside the camp.

“Where are you going?” Leafpool’s mew startled him as he headed for the den entrance.

“I left some leaves behind,” he lied.

“Will you be able to find them by yourself?”

“I was only there yesterday,” he snapped. “I know exactly where to find them. I’m not a mouse-brain.” He figured Leafpool would be too worried about offending him to ask him any more questions.

He padded out of the den and through the thorn tunnel.

Brightheart was guarding the entrance. “You’re out early.”

“I’m fetching herbs for Leafpool.”

“Do you need an escort?”

“No,” Jaypaw mewed quickly. “Thanks.”

“The dawn patrol’s out,” Brightheart informed him. “And the assessment’s going to start soon. So there’ll be plenty of your Clanmates around if you need help.”

“I won’t,” he assured her.

He padded away, relieved that he knew this part of the forest so well. He didn’t want Brightheart to see him fall flat on his nose. He headed up the track until he was sure he was out of sight, then ducked into the bushes. Lionpaw had said to meet by the oak where the mushrooms grew. It would be easy to find; this time of year the mushrooms were strong enough for even a sighted cat to smell. He could detect their musty odor from here, and, treading carefully through the undergrowth, he followed his nose until he felt the peaty soil of the mushroom bed beneath his paws.

There was no sign of Lionpaw and Hollypaw.

Then the stench of dirtplace hit his nose. The bushes rustled beside him.

“Sorry we’re late,” Hollypaw panted.

“We couldn’t think of an excuse for leaving the camp,” Lionpaw added. “So we sneaked out through the dirtplace tunnel.”

Jaypaw wrinkled his nose. “I can tell.” They smelled stronger than the mushrooms budding around them.

“And I’ve got prickers in my fur,” Hollypaw complained.

“Try rolling in the soil here,” Jaypaw suggested. “It’ll get rid of the smell and the prickers.”

“Good idea!”

Jaypaw leaped backward as Hollypaw sent gritty earth spraying up into his face. “Thanks!” he muttered.

“It was your idea,” she retorted, scrambling to her paws.

She sniffed loudly at her fur. “It worked!”

“Don’t sound so surprised,” Jaypaw mewed.

“Let me try.” Lionpaw copied his sister.

“Now you smell like a couple of mushrooms,” Jaypaw complained.

“It’ll be good camouflage,” Hollypaw pointed out.

“Poor Cinderpaw’ll think she’s being stalked by toadstools,” Lionpaw mewed.

Jaypaw pricked his ears. “Shh!” He could hear the undergrowth rustling in the distance. The scents of Sandstorm, Cloudtail, and Thornclaw drifted on the early-morning breeze.

“Follow me, and keep quiet.”

He began to creep forward as though stalking prey, but a tree root snagged his paw and he stumbled.

“I’ll lead,” Lionpaw whispered. “Tell me which way to go.”

“Straight ahead,” Jaypaw muttered, letting Lionpaw slide past him. “Thornclaw and the others are right in front of us.”

After crawling a few tail-lengths through the undergrowth, Hollypaw tugged on Jaypaw’s tail. “I can hear them,” she hissed.

Jaypaw had already heard Thornclaw’s deep mew. “I hope you’re ready,” he was telling Poppypaw.

“There’s a bramble bush here,” Lionpaw warned. “Stay close behind me and keep low.”

Ducking, Jaypaw crawled after his brother, feeling the barbs scrape his pelt.

Cloudtail’s voice was clear now. “I know you will all do your best. But remember, you are not competing against one another, only yourselves.”

“You can’t help one another, either,” Sandstorm warned.

“This is a test of your solo hunting skills.”

“And we shall be watching you, though you may not see us,” Thornclaw meowed.

Lionpaw halted, and Jaypaw wriggled alongside him, feeling the brambles pressing down on his back. Hollypaw pushed in as well. “This is so exciting!”

“Shh!” Lionpaw hissed.

From the sound of it, the warriors and their apprentices were only a foxtail ahead of them. Jaypaw trusted that Lionpaw had chosen a spot where they were still well hidden, and hoped the mushroom dirt was enough to hide their scents.

The air pricked with the excitement of the three apprentices waiting to begin their assessment.

“Cinderpaw can hardly sit still,” Hollypaw commented.

“Poor Honeypaw looks petrified,” Lionpaw whispered.

“But Poppypaw looks as calm as a vixen.”

“Nothing fazes Poppypaw,” Hollypaw mewed.

Hopefulness and determination mingled in the air like meadow scent.

“Good luck,” Thornclaw meowed.

The three warriors melted into the forest, leaving the apprentices alone.

“Where shall I hunt?” Honeypaw mewed nervously.

“Trust your instinct,” Poppypaw advised. “I’m heading this way.”

Jaypaw heard Poppypaw’s paw steps heading toward the bramble where he and his littermates hid. Not daring to back away in case he set the bush shivering, he flattened himself against the ground. Lionpaw and Hollypaw tensed beside him, holding their breath as Poppypaw’s pelt brushed the leaves of the bush.

Don’t let her see us!

Hollypaw dug her claws into the soft earth.

Shh! Jaypaw stiffened. Then he let out a relieved sigh as the apprentice’s paw steps scuffed away up the slope.

“She’s heading to the shore,” Hollypaw guessed.

“Honeypaw’s going the other way,” Lionpaw mewed.

“What about Cinderpaw?” Jaypaw asked.

“She’s tasting the air.” Hollypaw’s breath tickled Jaypaw’s ear fur. “She must have caught a scent. She’s on the move.”

“Come on,” Lionpaw hissed. “Let’s follow her.” He began crawling out from under the bush.

Jaypaw followed, his brother’s tail brushing his nose. Out in the open, he soon recognized the ground beneath his paws; they were following the bottom of the slope. Keeping close to Lionpaw’s tail, and with Hollypaw’s fur brushing his flank, he found it easy to keep up with Cinderpaw as she began to pick up speed.

“She looks confident!” Hollypaw mewed. “Her tail is up.”

Lionpaw stopped without warning. “She’s turning around!” he hissed.

Jaypaw skidded to a halt just before he crashed into his brother. He felt Hollypaw’s teeth grasp his tail and drag him backward; then Lionpaw bundled him sideways and the three of them tumbled through a wall of ferns in time to hear Cinderpaw’s paw steps thrumming past.

“That was close!” Lionpaw panted.

In the distance, a screech split the air and Jaypaw heard the fluttering of wings.

“Mouse dung!” An angry mew rang through the trees.

“Sounds like Honeypaw’s missed her first catch,” Lionpaw guessed.

“Never mind Honeypaw,” Hollypaw mewed. “Cinderpaw’s getting away!” She pushed her way out of the ferns and began to give chase. Lionpaw nudged Jaypaw after her, and they were once more hurrying through the forest after the apprentice.

Jaypaw recognized a scent. “Squirrel!”

Cinderpaw’s footsteps grew quicker.

“She’s following it,” Lionpaw mewed.

“I can see her!” Hollypaw whispered. “She’s definitely stalking it. She’s keeping lower than a snake.”

“Has the squirrel seen her?” Jaypaw asked.

“It’s fleeing,” Lionpaw answered. “But it’s still on the ground. I think it knows something’s up, but it’s not climbing yet.”

“It’s trying to escape,” Hollypaw hissed to Jaypaw. “Cinderpaw’s going to have to make her move soon.”

“It’s running along a fallen tree,” Lionpaw mewed, “heading for an oak. Cinderpaw’s got to attack now or she’ll lose it.”

“There she goes!” Hollypaw mewed triumphantly. “What a leap—” Her voice broke off.

“What’s the matter?” Jaypaw felt a flash of alarm. Through the bushes, he heard a scraping sound, followed by a dull thud.

“She mistimed the jump!” Lionpaw gasped.

“She’s crashed on top of the fallen tree!” Hollypaw yelped.

The air was suddenly thick with pain.

“She’s hurt!” Hollypaw screeched. But Jaypaw was already racing for Cinderpaw, praying nothing would trip him up.

Hollypaw pelted past him and leaped up to her friend, who was helpless and moaning with pain on the trunk. Jaypaw clawed his way up the trunk, the rotting bark splintering beneath his paws. Panting, he crouched beside Cinderpaw.

Cloudtail exploded from the bushes. “Is she hurt?”

Waves of agony flooded from Cinderpaw’s injured leg. Jaypaw pressed his cheek to it. It was swelling already, hot and trembling. “It’s her bad leg!” he called.

Cinderpaw’s breathing was sharp and shallow. “It just buckled as I jumped,” she croaked.

Cloudtail scrabbled onto the trunk, pushing Hollypaw to one side. “I knew she wasn’t ready!”

“We need to get her back to camp,” Jaypaw told him. “Hollypaw, you go on ahead and warn Leafpool.”

Hollypaw hesitated, not wanting to leave her friend.

“Go on!” Jaypaw ordered.

Hollypaw scrambled away, the undergrowth rustling as she disappeared into the forest.

“It’s okay, Cinderpaw,” Cloudtail soothed. “We’ll get you home.” He called to Lionpaw, who was still on the forest floor.

“I’m going to hold her by her scruff and jump down. I need you to make sure her injured leg doesn’t hit anything, or touch the ground. Do you think you can do that?”

“Yes.”

Cinderpaw moaned as Cloudtail lifted her carefully by the loose fur at the back of her neck.

Lionpaw’s hind paws stumped heavily on the forest floor as he reached up to help. Jaypaw leaped down beside him, his pelt brushing Cinderpaw’s as she dangled in midair. Carefully, Cloudtail slid down from the tree. Cinderpaw wailed as they landed and Cloudtail laid her on the ground.

Jaypaw pressed his cheek to her trembling flank. Her heart was steady and strong. “Can you walk on three legs?”

“I think so,” she groaned.

“We’ll help you,” Lionpaw promised.

Fur scraped the leafy floor as Cinderpaw dragged herself onto three paws. Jaypaw scuttled out of the way to let Lionpaw and Cloudtail press against either side of her. Slowly, the injured apprentice limped forward, her paws thudding unevenly on the ground.

Every step stabbed Jaypaw like a thorn. “Can’t you carry her?” He bristled with frustration. “Leafpool needs to check her over.” What if she goes into shock?

“Steady, there.” Cloudtail wouldn’t let him hurry them.

“We could damage her leg more.”

At last they reached the thorn barrier and made the final snail-slow steps through the tunnel.

Hollypaw was waiting for them inside, her pelt bristling with worry. “She’s walking!”

“Not exactly,” Cinderpaw grunted.

“How bad is it?” Graystripe called across the clearing.

Daisy was at the nursery entrance. “Is it broken again?”

“We don’t know yet.” Jaypaw circled his patient anxiously as Lionpaw and Cloudtail helped her to hobble across the clearing. Hollypaw held the brambles to one side as they reached Leafpool’s den.

“Lie down here,” Leafpool told Cinderpaw as soon as they entered. From the smell of it she had already prepared a bed of fresh moss in a quiet corner of the cave.

Cinderpaw grunted with pain as her fur brushed the moss.

“Outside, please.” Leafpool shooed Hollypaw and Lionpaw away.

Hollypaw objected. “But I want to stay with Cinderpaw!”

“You can visit her later.” Leafpool was adamant. The two apprentices were bundled out of the entrance. “What happened?” Leafpool’s mew was brittle as she turned to Cloudtail.

The warrior began to explain. “She was jumping over a fallen tree—”

Cinderpaw butted in. “My stupid leg gave way! And now I’ve failed my assessment!”

“It doesn’t matter,” Cloudtail tried to reassure her, but Cinderpaw was pulsing with anger.

“Of course it matters!” she snapped. “I don’t want Honeypaw and Poppypaw to move to the warriors’ den without me. I wanted to sit the warriors’ vigil with them, not on my own!”

“I know you’re upset,” Leafpool soothed. “Let’s just see if we can make you more comfortable.” Her mew was calm, but Jaypaw could sense distress crackling beneath her pelt as she began to run her pads over Cinderpaw’s leg. “Nothing broken,” she mewed. “It’s not as bad as before.”

“Feels like it’s worse,” Cinderpaw grumbled.

“You’ve just wrenched the muscles,” Leafpool assured her.

“They’ll heal with rest.”

“But why did it give way?”

Leafpool didn’t answer but spoke instead to Cloudtail.

“Leave her to me,” she mewed softly. “I’ll let you know how she is as soon as I’ve finished treating her.”

Jaypaw ducked out of the way to let Cloudtail pass as the warrior padded out of the den. He wondered whether he should offer to help, but Leafpool seemed so caught up in Cinderpaw’s injury that he remained quiet, crouching near the entrance, ready if she needed him.

“Why did it give way?” Cinderpaw repeated her question more fiercely. “Didn’t it heal properly last time? Will it always be weak? What if I can never be a warrior?”

Jaypaw felt Leafpool’s rush of panic like a hot wind flattening his pelt.

“You’ll be fine,” Leafpool soothed. “I’ve made a poultice.”

She padded to the back of the den. Jaypaw smelled the tang of nettle and comfrey in the ointment she brought back and began smoothing over Cinderpaw’s leg. “Take these poppy seeds,” Leafpool advised. “They’ll help you to rest.”

Jaypaw listened as Cinderpaw’s breathing slowed and deepened. Leafpool sat motionless beside her, and only when Cinderpaw finally drifted into sleep did she turn away.

Surprise pricked from her when she saw Jaypaw. “Are you still here?”

Jaypaw sat up, stiff from crouching so long. “I wouldn’t leave while we had a patient.”

“I thought you’d gone out with the others,” Leafpool murmured absently.

“You shouldn’t have told Cloudtail she was ready for her assessment.”

“That’s not for you to judge.” Leafpool’s voice quavered.

“You didn’t even watch a training session to make sure she was fully fit.”

“You don’t understand!”

“I do,” Jaypaw answered quietly. He nodded toward the cave entrance, beckoning Leafpool outside. She followed him to the bramble patch. No one would overhear them there.

Jaypaw took a deep breath. “I know that you want Cinderpaw to become a warrior as soon as possible. You don’t want her to suffer the same fate as Cinderpelt.”

“What’s wrong with that?” Leafpool demanded. “Not being able to become a warrior broke Cinderpelt’s heart.”

There are worse fates. “You’re obsessed with the past,” Jaypaw warned her. “You want to make sure everything turns out the way you think it should.”

“I just want to do what’s right.”

“You can’t always do the right thing. No matter how much you want to.”

“I know.” Grief pulsed from his mentor, sharper and deeper than Jaypaw expected. “But I’ll always try.”