Fading Echoes

Chapter 12

Jayfeather lifted his head and sniffed the dawn breeze. The air was fresh with the tang of sap from the fallen tree and musty with wet leaves and mud. He felt the warmth of Millie’s pelt against his. The gray queen was wrapped around her kit.

Briarpaw slept on, the poppy seed he’d given her last night still heavy on her breath. He could sense the weight in her limbs and the emptiness of feeling in her hind legs.

Aching with the strain of yesterday’s disaster, he sniffed at his patient, his whiskers brushing over Millie’s pelt as he leaned into Briarpaw’s nest.

Millie raised her head. “How is she?”

“She’s safe from the shock,” he told her. Briarpaw’s heart beat steadily beneath her clammy pelt.

“What about her legs?” Millie’s mew trembled.

“I don’t know.” Jayfeather stifled a growl. He hated being so helpless.

Outside, warriors were moving in the half clearing. Jayfeather could hear Brambleclaw issuing orders.

“Patrols will carry on as normal. We must hunt. Dustpelt, how many cats do you need to help you clear the debris?”

Jayfeather pricked his ears. The wreckage of the beech muted sound. The mews of his Clanmates no longer rang against the rocky walls of the hollow but soaked into the soft mass of sodden branches and leaves.

“Four or five should be enough for the first shift,” Dustpelt answered his deputy resolutely, but Jayfeather felt the sting in the warrior’s paws, raw from yesterday’s work. “Birchfall and Brackenfur? They could start with the bigger branches. Rosepetal and Hazeltail could help with the smaller ones.”

A path had been cleared to the medicine den. The nursery was safe, enfolded in a tangle of beech roots. The apprentices’ den had survived unscathed.

Briarpaw was stirring. As Jayfeather bent to sniff her muzzle he felt her eyelids flicker on his cheek.

“How are you?” he asked gently.

He could feel panic pricking from Millie and tapped her with his tail-tip. Don’t let her smell your fear.

“Don’t know,” Briarpaw answered groggily.

“Any pain?”

“No. Just sleepy.”

“That’s because of the poppy seed.”

“Is that why I can’t feel my hind legs?”

Jayfeather felt Millie’s gaze burning his pelt. She wanted him to say yes. She wanted it to be true.

Perhaps it was. Perhaps once the trauma of the accident had worn off Briarpaw would be up and about, her hind legs fine. After all, he hadn’t felt any breaks in the bones. There was no reason why they shouldn’t work.

“Well?” Briarpaw pressed.

“I think they’re just recovering from the accident a little more slowly than the rest of you,” he told her. “Let’s wait and see. StarClan willing, they’ll wake up before too long.”

Briarpaw hooked her claws into the bracken of her nest. “I hope it’s soon. I’ve just passed my assessment. I can be a warrior now!”

Millie swallowed hard. “Go back to sleep,” she whispered. “The more you rest, the quicker you’ll recover.”

Briarpaw rested her chin on her paws and within moments her breath deepened into slumber.

Millie followed Jayfeather out of the den. “What’s wrong with her?” she demanded as soon as they were beyond the trailing brambles.

Jayfeather winced as his paw stubbed a branch littering the pathway to his den. The camp had changed shape, distorted by the fallen beech, and he had to pick his way carefully through it, not knowing what might be jutting out, waiting to trip him. He snorted with frustration. The camp had been the one place he could move around without concentrating. Now it was as foreign to him as RiverClan territory.

“What’s wrong with her legs?” Millie pressed as he licked his paw fiercely to ease the pain.

He paused, fixing his gaze on her. He knew that cats listened harder when he looked at them, though it made no difference to him. “I don’t know.”

“You must!” Fear and frustration edged her mew.

Jayfeather was relieved to hear Graystripe’s pawsteps approaching. The gray warrior could comfort his mate.

Graystripe’s fur brushed Millie’s. “No change?” His voice was taut with worry.

“We’re just going to have to wait,” Jayfeather told them. “At least she’s not in pain.”

He began to pad away, his mind whirling. Why couldn’t Briarpaw feel her legs? They were bruised, but not broken. Jayfeather frowned. He’d never come across that before.

“Can we see her?” Graystripe called after him.

“Sitting with her won’t harm her, though she needs her rest,” Jayfeather meowed over his shoulder. “She’s your kit. You’ll know best how to keep her spirits up.”

Jayfeather’s belly growled. The prey pile smelled freshly stocked. He figured that he’d better eat. There hadn’t been time last night. He padded toward it, tasting the familiar scent of Lionblaze, mixed with heavy, wet earth.

Jayfeather plucked a mouse from the stack. “Have you been burying Longtail?” He knew his grief for lost Clanmates was less than that of other cats. He would see Longtail again, free from blindness and aches, basking in the warmth of StarClan’s hunting grounds or sitting with old friends in the ranks of starry-pelted cats who visited the Moonpool.

Briarpaw’s problem upset him more. If her legs didn’t recover, she faced more suffering than he wanted to imagine.

Lionblaze flicked his tail against the ground. “I was helping Mousefur and Purdy. They were tired after sitting vigil all night.” He pushed the blackbird distractedly with a paw. “I sent them to rest in the nursery, but I don’t think Mousefur will sleep. She’s still very agitated.”

“I’ll take her a poppy seed once I’ve eaten,” Jayfeather promised. “Is Dovepaw any calmer?”

“A little.” Concern edged his mew. “She should be proud that she saved so many lives by warning us.”

“She feels the responsibility of looking after the Clan more heavily than ever,” Jayfeather guessed.

“She’s young.” Lionblaze sighed. “And being one of the Three is a great responsibility.”

Jayfeather nodded. He and Lionblaze were older, surer of their abilities, and they still found it hard.

“I’ll take her hunting with Ivypaw this morning,” Lionblaze decided. “I want her to remember what normal Clan life feels like.”

“Good.” As Jayfeather bent to pick up his mouse he heard pattering pawsteps. Blossompaw and Bumblepaw brushed against him.

“Can we see Briarpaw?” Bumblepaw circled anxiously.

“She’s sleeping at the moment,” Jayfeather answered. “But I don’t see why not. She’s not in pain. Company will be as good a medicine as any.”

The two young cats hurried away to the medicine den while Lionblaze headed for the tattered thorn barrier. Jayfeather bent again for his mouse.

“How’s Briarpaw?”

Leafpool’s mew took him by surprise. She was the only cat who could creep up on him. Perhaps her scent was too familiar. Too close to his own. He shook the thought away.

“Why don’t you check on her yourself?” he suggested, trying to keep his fur lying flat.

“I’m a warrior now,” she reminded him gruffly.

Disappointed, he snatched up his mouse and began to pad away.

“I’d go and see Littlecloud.”

Leafpool’s suggestion stopped him in his tracks.

“Really?” He turned back to her. “I thought you weren’t a medicine cat anymore.”

“I meant, if I were you.”

“But you’re not me!”

Leafpool took a steadying breath. “Littlecloud’s dealt with an injury like Briarpaw’s,” she explained. “A cat whose legs were crushed. He might have ideas about how to help Briarpaw.”

Jayfeather didn’t reply.

“It’s not that I don’t trust your judgment,” Leafpool went on. “It’s just what I would do.”

Jayfeather dropped his mouse, his appetite gone, and padded away. He climbed the rocks to Firestar’s den, pushing all thoughts except Briarpaw from his mind.

Sandstorm was sitting with the ThunderClan leader, grooming his shoulders, her rough tongue scraping his sleek fur. She paused as Jayfeather padded in.

“News?” Firestar’s voice was pricked with worry.

Jayfeather shook his head. “I want to travel to the ShadowClan camp to speak with Littlecloud,” he meowed. “Leafpool says he’s dealt with injuries similar to Briarpaw’s.”

“Very well.” Firestar didn’t hesitate. “But take Squirrelflight with you.”

Jayfeather’s heart sank. “I can manage by myself.”

“I know,” Firestar agreed. “But if one tree can fall after so much rain, so can another. We can’t risk losing you. Take Squirrelflight.”

Jayfeather could sense that there was no point arguing. But why Squirrelflight? He couldn’t think of any cat he’d like to travel with less. Except Leafpool.

Was Firestar forcing them together on purpose?

Jayfeather left the leader’s den and picked his way across the clearing. Grief pricked the air, the cats speaking only when necessary.

Foxleap and Icecloud were dragging a rustling branch past the apprentices’ den. They stopped as Jayfeather passed.

“How’s Briarpaw?” Icecloud called.

“No better, no worse.”

Farther on, Thornclaw was gnawing at a branch, trying to loosen it from its thick bough. “How’s Briarpaw?”

Jayfeather hardly broke pace. “No better, no worse.”

“How’s Briarpaw?” Brightheart padded across his path.

Jayfeather growled. “No better, no worse.”

Sympathy flooded from the one-eyed warrior’s pelt. “We ask only because we care.”

Jayfeather’s shoulders slumped. “I don’t like being helpless,” he confessed.

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Actually, there is.” Jayfeather nodded. Brightheart was used to helping in the medicine den. “I have to go out. Can you give Briarpaw poppy seeds if she starts to complain of pain? No more than one at a time. I don’t want to dull her feeling any more than necessary.”

“Okay.”

“And take one to Mousefur as soon as you get a chance,” he added. “She’s still very upset.”

“Right.” Brightheart ducked away toward the medicine den.

Jayfeather wanted to check on the elder himself before he left. He slid into the apprentices’ den, where Purdy and Mousefur were crouched in thickly padded nests.

“It was my fault,” Mousefur was muttering. “All my fault.”

Purdy forced a loud purr. “I bet he’s walking with StarClan now,” he mewed. “Hunting in lush forest, warm and happy.”

“How will he manage without me to guide him?” Mousefur fretted.

“I wish I’d known him longer,” Purdy pressed on. “I heard he made the Great Journey while he was blind.”

“He never seemed to get tired.” Memory distracted the old she-cat for a moment. “Always first up and ready to move on. Never afraid of what lay ahead.”

“What was he like before he lost his sight?” Purdy prompted.

“Eyes like a hawk,” Mousefur remembered. “Could spot prey under a rock a tree-length away.”

Jayfeather felt Purdy’s gaze flit over his pelt. For the first time, Jayfeather thanked StarClan for the garrulous old loner.

“Tell me about his best catch,” Purdy urged Mousefur. “I hear he once caught an eagle.”

“Well, it wasn’t exactly an eagle, though he did fight off an owl when it tried to snatch a kit.”

Relieved, Jayfeather backed out of the den.

As he neared the barrier, branches swished. Cloudtail and Brackenfur were heaving them up against the ragged thornbush.

“Wait!” Squirrelflight was hurrying after him. “Sandstorm told me to accompany you to ShadowClan’s camp.”

“I’m going to speak to Littlecloud.” Jayfeather didn’t turn to greet the orange warrior before he ducked through a gap in the barrier.

She hurried after him but kept a few paces behind as they headed into the forest. The wind was cold: the first promise of leaf-bare. Jayfeather shivered, then jumped as a tree creaked beside him. He had never considered the fragility of the trees before. They stood so strong and tall. How could rain have defeated one?

Squirrelflight quickened her pace and fell in beside him. “It’s not right to fear the forest.”

“It’s not right for a tree to crush the camp,” Jayfeather growled. “But it did.”

Squirrelflight moved a little farther away and padded on in silence. Jayfeather relished the tension sparking between them if it meant she would keep her distance. He had not been alone with the cat who had raised him since the truth came out: that she had lied to him and his littermates all their lives, that she wasn’t their mother at all, but their mother’s sister.

“I remember when you, Lionblaze, and Hollyleaf were still kits,” Squirrelflight meowed suddenly.

Jayfeather stiffened.

“A leaf landed on Hollyleaf’s head. She thought the forest was falling and hid in the nursery and wouldn’t come out for three days.”

Shut up! Jayfeather flattened his ears.

“I couldn’t have loved you more,” Squirrelflight murmured.

Anger flashed through his pelt. “If you’d really loved us, you wouldn’t have lied!”

Squirrelflight bristled. “Well, the truth is just great, isn’t it!” She whipped her tail though the air. “Look at Leafpool. She’s lost everything she ever cared about.”

“Her choice,” muttered Jayfeather.

Squirrelflight ignored him. “She lost you, Lionblaze, and Hollyleaf.”

“She gave us away.”

“Other cats have been hurt too!” Squirrelflight snapped. “This was never just about you, and I’m sick of you flapping your wings like an injured sparrow, feeling oh so sorry for yourself. You’re not the only cat suffering. Your pain is not the hardest to bear. I suppose I expected more from you because you’re the medicine cat; I suppose I forget how young you are!”

As she lectured him, Jayfeather’s rage spiraled alongside hers. “Leafpool made this happen. I didn’t go looking for mates in another Clan. I didn’t have kits and give them away! I didn’t lie and let every cat think I was something I wasn’t!”

Squirrelflight drew in a long breath and let it out slowly. “Try to remember,” she meowed quietly, “that we did what we thought was best. Remember that you were always loved.”

Yeah, right.

Border markers crossed their path.

Jayfeather padded past them.

“Wait,” Squirrelflight ordered.

Jayfeather dug his claws into the ground. Was she going to argue with everything he did or said? They had to speak with Littlecloud as soon as possible! But he waited while she tasted the air, her paws shifting the needles on the forest floor as she scanned the woodland.

“Patrol,” she warned.

Jayfeather sniffed, and scented the fresh tang of ShadowClan warriors. Oakfur and Ferretpaw were padding close by.

Squirrelflight hailed the ShadowClan warrior. “Oakfur?”

Jayfeather felt surprise spark from the ShadowClan cats’ pelts. Pawsteps came hurrying.

“So Blackstar was right!” Oakfur growled. “You are trying to invade.”

“Keep your fur on!” Jayfeather realized he was on the wrong side of the border. “I just want to see Littlecloud.”

Ferretpaw swarmed around him, whiskers twitching. Jayfeather stood still and let the young cat sniff.

“Do we look like a battle patrol?” Squirrelflight asked.

“There may be more of you.” Oakfur sounded suspicious.

“Can you smell any others?”

Ferretpaw snorted. “The others may be disguised.”

Squirrelflight sighed. “We really haven’t come to invade. Can you take us to see Littlecloud, please?”

Oakfur hesitated. “Okay,” he agreed. “But Blackstar will send a full patrol to check the rest of the area.” His mew rang through the trees, clearly aimed at the invasion patrol he suspected was hiding behind the trees along the border.

Squirrelflight padded across the scent line and fell in behind Oakfur. Jayfeather followed, his irritation with Ferretpaw growing as the apprentice trotted around him as though he were guarding the Clans’ most dangerous warrior.

“What’s the matter?” Jayfeather muttered. “Worried I might give you some medicine?”

Ferretpaw bristled. “Shut up!”

Jayfeather recognized the ShadowClan camp as they approached. He’d been here before, with Sol. He padded across the clearing, confident the way was clear, aware of Kinkfur and Ivytail peering from the nursery, of Tawnypelt and Scorchfur crowding from the warriors’ den, and hearing fur brush the earth as Starlingpaw and Pinepaw leaped to their paws on the edge of the clearing where they’d been sharing a shrew.

Oakfur gave a warning yowl, which brought Blackstar from his den.

“What’s going on?” the ShadowClan leader demanded.

Squirrelflight’s paws scuffed the clearing. “May we speak to you in private?”

Oakfur brushed past her. “They want to see Littlecloud.”

Surprise bristled in the ShadowClan leader’s pelt. “Then go get him,” he ordered. His fur snagged the brambles as he disappeared back into his den. “Come inside,” he called.

Jayfeather followed Squirrelflight through the entrance. The stench of ShadowClan was strong and he wrinkled his nose.

Blackstar sat down. “What’s wrong?”

“A beech tree fell into the hollow,” Squirrelflight explained. “We have an injured cat and we were hoping Littlecloud would be able to advise us on her treatment.”

“Just one injured cat?” Blackstar’s mew croaked with surprise, then hardened. “StarClan must have been keeping a close eye on you.”

“Yes,” Squirrelflight replied. “We managed to clear the camp before it fell.”

“Longtail died,” Jayfeather told Blackstar bluntly.

The ShadowClan leader sighed, sympathy flashing briefly like sunlight between clouds. “StarClan will welcome such an old friend, though his Clanmates will miss him.”

Littlecloud poked his head through the entrance. “Did I hear you say a tree fell?” He gasped.

“Yes.” Squirrelflight was keeping her answers short. “It fell into the hollow. Briarpaw was injured. Longtail died.”

“Thank StarClan it wasn’t worse,” Littlecloud breathed.

“It’s bad enough.” Jayfeather flicked his tail. “Briarpaw can’t move her hind legs.”

He let Littlecloud’s thoughts flood his own. He saw images of a tom howling in agony, then lying in a nest, limp with fear, unable to move, anguish clouding his gaze.

“I had a case like that.” Littlecloud’s mind cleared as he began to speak. “Back when I was Runningnose’s apprentice. Wildfur’s legs were crushed by a collapsing burrow.”

“Leafpool told me.” Jayfeather wanted to hear about the cure, not the cause. “But Briarpaw’s legs aren’t crushed. No broken bones.”

“Same with Wildfur,” Littlecloud told him. “His legs were only bruised. It was his backbone that was broken.”

Jayfeather felt sick. He was suddenly aware of the arch of his own spine. The strength in it. The fragility of it. “Did he recover?”

“He died,” Littlecloud mewed quietly.

“But Briarpaw’s alive and feels no pain.”

“Same as Wildfur, to begin with. I don’t think it was the broken backbone that killed him.”

Jayfeather leaned forward. “Then what killed him?”

“He couldn’t walk.”

“Didn’t you feed him?” Squirrelflight gasped.

“Of course we did,” Littlecloud snapped. “But he kept getting a cough, over and over. Each time we treated it, it came back. He found it harder and harder to breathe.”

“Did the loss of feeling spread to his chest?” Jayfeather wondered.

“No. I think it was because he never moved from his nest.” Littlecloud spoke slowly, thoughtfully. “It seemed as if he never had a chance to shake the sickness from his chest. As though it filled with disease, like a pool filling with water until there was no air left.”

Jayfeather shivered, picturing Briarpaw curled in her nest. Had she coughed this morning? Was she coughing now, while he was here, away from his patient? His paws suddenly itched for home.

Squirrelflight’s tail-tip brushed the roof of the den. “Then we must keep Briarpaw moving.”

Jayfeather blinked. “Do you think that would work?” he asked Littlecloud.

“If you can manage it, then it’s worth a try,” Littlecloud murmured. “And you could try making her a nest that lets her sleep sitting up. It might help keep her chest filled with air.” There was doubt in the medicine cat’s mew. “But it will be uncomfortable. And keeping her moving will be hard for her and for the rest of the Clan.” He paused. “I wish you luck.”

Jayfeather bristled. “Luck will have nothing to do with it.”

Littlecloud brushed his tail over the ground. “Let me fetch you some herbs to help with her chest and belly. That’s where you must focus your healing. Her legs are beyond your powers.”

The ShadowClan medicine cat padded from the den, and Jayfeather and Squirrelflight waited in awkward silence with Blackstar until the tang of strong herbs touched Jayfeather’s nose. He padded out to meet Littlecloud.

“The coltsfoot will ease her breathing.” The ShadowClan medicine cat pushed a bundle of leaves toward him. “The juniper berries will keep her belly soothed.”

“We have these herbs already,” Jayfeather told him.

“You’ll need all you can get.” Littlecloud sat down. “Come back if you need more. Or if you want to share any more ideas. We can all learn from this.”

Jayfeather picked up the bundle. As Squirrelflight squeezed out of Blackstar’s den, he headed for the camp entrance.

“May StarClan watch over you and Briarpaw,” Littlecloud called.

They may watch, Jayfeather thought. But I won’t let them take her yet.

As Jayfeather followed Squirrelflight back to the hollow, he kept trying to work out ways to keep Briarpaw healthy and moving.

Squirrelflight paused outside the hollow. “I’m proud of you,” she meowed. “If any cat can help Briarpaw, it’s you.”

Jayfeather turned to her, searching for words. He wanted to believe it. That she was proud. That he could help Briarpaw. “Thanks,” he mumbled through his mouthful of herbs, and ducked into camp.

Cloudtail and Brackenfur were still hauling branches against the tattered barrier, slower now as weariness dragged at their paws.

Firestar stood in the empty patch of clearing, talking with Brambleclaw and Dustpelt. “How much of the tree do you think you’ll be able to clear?” the ThunderClan leader asked his senior warriors.

Jayfeather sensed the weight of worry in Dustpelt’s chest. “We may need to wait for wind and weather to destroy the larger branches and trunks.”

“We could make use of them to construct new dens,” Brambleclaw suggested. “And looking at how much of the debris we’ve cleared already, I think we can rebuild most of our camp in less than a moon.”

“But we can’t neglect hunting and border patrols,” Dustpelt warned.

Firestar’s attention swung toward Jayfeather. “What did Littlecloud say?” he called across the clearing.

Jayfeather padded to the leader’s side and dropped his bundle of herbs. “He had some good advice,” he reported. “I want to share it with Graystripe and Millie first.”

“I sent Graystripe on patrol,” Brambleclaw confessed. “I wanted to keep him busy.”

Jayfeather picked up his herbs and left the warriors. He could hear Brightheart and Millie in the medicine den. Anxiety was sparking from them, and he sensed Briarpaw’s agitation growing as the two she-cats fussed over her.

“Just eat a little!” Millie begged. Jayfeather could smell the shrew dangling from her claws.

“I’m not hungry!” Briarpaw complained.

Jayfeather pushed through the trailing brambles and put down the herbs. “Leave her alone,” he ordered.

Millie rounded on him. “She’s my kit!”

“I’m her medicine cat!”

Briarpaw churned her nest with her forepaws. “I just want to help my Clanmates rebuild the camp!” she wailed.

Brightheart crossed the den and whispered in Jayfeather’s ear, “We told her about Longtail. She’s still distressed, but I didn’t want to give her poppy seed, after what you said.”

Jayfeather nodded. “Good. She’s going to have to learn to deal with distress.” He felt Brightheart stiffen at the darkness in his mew. “We have to face the truth,” he explained. “Briarpaw has a difficult path ahead, but I will do everything I can to save her.”

“Save her?” Millie nudged between them, her pelt prickling. “What did Littlecloud tell you?”

Jayfeather wasn’t ready to share what he’d learned. “Wait.” He needed to check Littlecloud’s theory first. There was still a chance Briarpaw’s legs were only bruised. That her backbone wasn’t damaged. He padded to her nest.

“What are you going to do?” Anxiety tightened Millie’s mew as Jayfeather leaned into Briarpaw’s nest.

“I need to be sure.” He ran his paws down Briarpaw’s back. He felt her twist to see what he was doing.

“Sure of what?” Millie fretted.

When Jayfeather didn’t answer, Brightheart padded closer and nudged Millie gently away. “He knows what he’s doing,” she whispered.

The backbone felt smooth: nothing out of place. Hope sparked in Jayfeather’s chest. He sniffed her legs. Definitely swollen. Perhaps when the swelling went down…? He lifted a leg in his teeth as he had done yesterday. It dropped, still lifeless. More comfrey might quicken the healing.

One last test.

Leaning farther into the nest, he nipped Briarpaw’s backbone in his teeth, just below her shoulders.

“Ow!” Briarpaw stiffened in alarm.

“I’m testing something,” Jayfeather reassured her. “It’ll prick, but I won’t damage you.” He put his muzzle close to hers until their whiskers brushed. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” she breathed.

“I need you to be brave while I do this.”

“Okay.”

Millie tried to move nearer the nest.

Brightheart blocked her. “Give him room to work.”

Jayfeather nipped Briarpaw’s backbone again, a little farther down.

“Ow.”

He nipped again, working his way gradually toward her tail.

With each nip she stiffened, but stifled her mew.

He nipped her lower.

“Aren’t you going to do it again?” she asked.

The question turned Jayfeather’s blood cold. He reached into the nest with one paw and poked a claw into the same spot. “Did you feel that?”

“Feel what?” Briarpaw twisted around to see.

“No, don’t look,” said Jayfeather. He dug his claw in harder. “Now?”

Briarpaw started to shake. “I can’t feel anything.” Panic edged her mew.

“What are you doing?” Millie barged past as Jayfeather stuck his claws in hard. “You’re making her bleed!”

“Is he?” Briarpaw struggled to see.

Jayfeather hardly heard them. “You couldn’t feel my claws, could you?” he murmured numbly.

“No,” Briarpaw whispered.

“Your backbone is broken,” Jayfeather told her. “There’s no pain because there’s no feeling past the break.” He pressed his paw gently against her flank. “I’m sorry.”

“Why?” she squeaked. “If I can’t feel pain, surely that’s a good thing?”

“You won’t ever be able to feel pain in your legs again,” Jayfeather told her slowly. “You won’t ever feel anything in your hind legs again.”

Millie gasped. “What do you mean? Broken bones mend.”

“Not backbones.”

“How do you know that?”

“Littlecloud had a warrior with the same injury,” he told her.

Briarpaw was craning her head toward him. “What happened to him?” she mewed.

Jayfeather didn’t answer.

“He died, didn’t he?” Briarpaw whimpered.

Jayfeather felt Millie barge into his shoulder, shoving him until she had bundled him right out of the den.

“How could you tell my kit she was going to die?” she hissed. “She can’t feel her legs, that’s all! You’re not fit to be a medicine cat! Do something!”

“What’s going on?” Squirrelflight dashed across the clearing and slid between Jayfeather and her snarling denmate.

“He says she’s going to die!”

Squirrelflight stiffened. “Did you say that, Jayfeather?”

Jayfeather shook his head.

“I didn’t think so.” Squirrelflight’s voice grew calm. “Littlecloud’s patient died. It doesn’t mean Briarpaw will.”

“We can feed her and help her move to keep her healthy,” Jayfeather put in. “If we keep her active, she stands a good chance of beating this.”

Millie’s breath was coming in quick gasps. “She’ll recover?”

“Her legs won’t,” Jayfeather meowed gently. “But she doesn’t have to die.”

Squirrelflight’s tail swished the air. “We need to keep her as active as we can, so that her chest stays clear. If we can do that, she’ll be okay.”

“Okay?” Millie sobbed. “She’ll never hunt. She’ll never be a warrior! She’ll never have kits!”

Graystripe bounded into camp. “What’s happening?” He skidded to a halt at Millie’s side.

“Our poor kit!” Millie buried her muzzle in his shoulder.

The trailing brambles at the entrance to the den swished. “Briarpaw can hear you!” Brightheart hissed. “I think you should come in, Jayfeather, and explain to her exactly what’s happening.”

Squirrelflight’s nose brushed his cheek. “I’ll look after Millie and Graystripe,” she told him.

Heart heavy as a stone, Jayfeather padded into his den. He settled beside Briarpaw’s nest. Panic was flooding in waves from the young cat.

“I’m never going to walk again, am I?”

Jayfeather rested his muzzle on her trembling head. “No,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry.”