Chapter 14

Jayfeather began to scoop up the herbs littering the den floor. What a waste. He’d used the commonest leaves to patch Lionblaze’s “wounds,” but even nettle stem and tansy would be hard to replace now that the snows had come. Last night, Brightheart and Leafpool had returned with only a few pawfuls of mallow and thyme. It had taken them half a day to find that much.

“Millie!”

Briarlight’s mew jerked Jayfeather back into the present. His mouth watered at the sweet scent of mouse.

“I brought you some fresh-kill.” Millie dropped it beside Briarlight’s nest. “I thought you might be hungry. You ate hardly anything this morning.”

“I told you,” Briarlight muttered. “I’m not hungry.”

Millie began to tear the mouse apart. “Try a morsel.”

“That’s not going to make me hungry,” Briarlight snapped.

“Just eat a little of it,” Millie coaxed.

“I’m not hungry!”

Jayfeather padded to Briarlight’s nest. He touched his nose to her muzzle. It was damp but not warm. She wasn’t running a fever. But her mind was a whirl of worry and guilt.

“Has her chest infection come back?” Millie asked anxiously.

“Leave the fresh-kill with me,” Jayfeather suggested. “I’ll check her over and see if I can persuade her to eat something.”

Millie stayed beside her kit’s nest. “I want to know if she’s okay.”

“Go back to the hollow.” Jayfeather suspected that it would be easier to find out what was troubling the young warrior without Millie hovering. “It’ll give me more room to examine her.”

Millie hesitated.

“I’ll tell you as soon as I know anything,” he promised. He felt reluctance weighing Millie’s paws as she padded out of the den.

“I don’t know why she has to fuss over me so much,” Briarlight huffed as soon as she was gone.

“Don’t you?” Jayfeather didn’t wait for a reply. He leaned forward and sniffed her breath. It was clean and fresh. No sign of infection. He laid a paw on her chest. “Breathe in as deeply as you can.” Her breath was deep and clear.

“So, no appetite, eh?” He sensed stubbornness stiffening her pelt and felt the fierce ache of hunger in her belly.

“No.”

“Liar.”

“What?”

Jayfeather felt surprise flash from the young cat. “You might be able to fool Millie, but not me. Do you really think it’s fair to make her worry just because you’ve gotten it into your head that you don’t deserve food because you can’t hunt?”

“What are you talking about?” Embarrassment glowed hotly from the young warrior.

Jayfeather softened his tone. “I know you think you’re being fair.” He settled down beside her nest. “But it’s not that simple.”

Briarlight turned her head away. “I don’t hunt. I shouldn’t eat.”

“Daisy doesn’t hunt,” Jayfeather pointed out. “Should she starve?”

“She looks after the kits!” Briarlight grunted.

“What about when you keep them amused by playing moss-ball with them while Daisy rests?”

“Any cat could do that.”

“What about Purdy and Mousefur, then?” Jayfeather pressed. “They don’t hunt.”

“They’re old; they’ve hunted enough for the Clan.”

“But they can’t hunt anymore. Why don’t we let them die now?”

Shock pulsed from the young cat. “We couldn’t! They’re part of the Clan. It’s our duty to look after them.” Her nest rustled beneath her paws. “Besides, the Clan wouldn’t be the same without them.”

Jayfeather left a small silence for her to hear her own words. Then he mewed, “Do you think the Clan would be the same without you?”

She didn’t answer.

“The Clan brings you fresh-kill because they think you deserve it, and because looking after their Clanmates is what makes them warriors. They are proud to help you.”

“I just wish there was something I could do to help them back.” Emotion choked Briarlight’s mew.

“Okay.” Jayfeather sat up. “Come on. Out of that nest.”

Fur brushed twigs as Briarlight hauled herself out.

“If helping look after Molekit and Cherrykit isn’t enough work for you, there’s plenty you can do here.” He swept his tail around the medicine den. “I like to keep balls of moss piled beside the pool so that I can soak them if I need water for washing wounds or quenching the thirst of a sick cat. Brightheart usually brings me fresh moss every few days. From now on it’s your job to check it for splinters or thorns, then divide it into balls and stack it by the pool.”

“Okay.” Jayfeather felt Briarlight’s spirits lifting. “What else?”

“Keep the den floor clean,” he ordered. “We have just about every cat in the Clan coming and going at the moment. My herbs seem to get everywhere. Sweep out any dirt and paw up all stray leaves and pile them next to my store.”

“No problem.”

“And I need to go through my supplies and see what’s running low,” Jayfeather went on. “You can help me.” He padded to the crack in the rock at the back of the den. Sliding into the chilly cleft, he called over his shoulder, “I’ll pass them out; you stack them by the wall. We can go through them together.”

He began to shove out bundle after bundle of herbs. Many were dry and crumbled in his paws. Reaching to the back, he felt something downy beneath his paw. Hooking it with his claw, he pulled out a scrap of fur. He sniffed it, his heart quickening. Hollyleaf! How had her fur gotten here? Had she returned from the dead?

Don’t be mouse-brained!

She’d been Leafpool’s apprentice once. It must have lodged in a corner then and been there ever since. The warm familiar scent of his sister flooded his heart. For a moment he was back in the nursery, squirming and fighting with Lionkit and Hollykit while Ferncloud sniffed disapprovingly.

Catch this, Jaykit!

Hollykit’s a slow slug!

“Jayfeather?” A voice summoned him from his thoughts.

“That’s all there is, Briarlight.” Jayfeather tucked Hollyleaf’s fur into a crack in the rock.

“Jayfeather!” the voice called again.

“Start piling the matching leaves together, Briarlight. I’ll be out in a moment.”

“Jayfeather.” This time warm breath stirred his ear fur.

He jumped around, his pelt scraping the rock. No one was there. Yet the scent of another cat hung heavy in the air.

Yellowfang!

He squeezed out of the cleft. Briarlight was beside the far wall, sifting through the herbs. “I’m matching the leaves,” she called.

“Good, good.” Jayfeather circled warily, tasting the air. The frosty chill was thick with her scent. Why had Yellowfang come here? It was half-moon. He’d be sharing dreams with her at the Moonpool tonight. Why come now?

“Come with me.” Her rasping mew sounded behind him. “Don’t worry; no one can hear me except you.”

“What are you doing here?” he hissed.

“Visiting you.”

Briarlight paused. “What did you say?”

“Nothing,” Jayfeather meowed hurriedly. “I—I’ve got to go out for a while. Keep matching the leaves. I’ll be back soon.” He followed Yellowfang’s scent out of the den and across the clearing.

“Couldn’t you have waited till tonight?” he snapped once they were clear of the hollow.

“Do you think I wanted to leave StarClan and come to this freezing place?”

A faint outline shimmered in front of Jayfeather’s eyes. He could see Yellowfang’s ragged pelt now, and the fuzzy outlines of trees behind her.

“Then why did you come?” Jayfeather’s paws ached from the snow.

“You needed to know this before you met with the others at the Moonpool!”

“Okay, okay,” Jayfeather muttered. “Just tell me, and we can both go home.”

“I saw Lionblaze fight the fox,” Yellowfang rasped.

“And?”

“It was a sign.”

“A sign of what? That he’s a mouse-brain?”

“He fought it alone.”

“Yeah. I know. He’s a mouse-brain,” Jayfeather repeated. His teeth were starting to chatter. “Can you get to the point?”

Yellowfang’s stinking breath billowed around his muzzle as she leaned close. “Stop complaining and start listening,” she hissed. “Like Lionblaze, ThunderClan must fight alone.”

“When?”

“When the Dark Forest rises, ThunderClan must face its greatest enemy alone.”

Jayfeather blinked. “But the Dark Forest threatens every Clan.”

“Only one Clan will survive,” Yellowfang growled. “Yesterday four patrols could not drive the fox from your territory. Today Lionblaze sent it fleeing for its life. In the great battle that is coming, ThunderClan must fight alone.”

“But the Dark Forest warriors are training cats from every Clan,” Jayfeather reminded her.

“So every Clan might betray you!”

“But we’re all in danger. Surely we have to fight together?”

“Why do the Three belong to ThunderClan and no other Clan?” Yellowfang’s amber eyes burned. “It must be ThunderClan’s destiny to survive while others perish.”

What? There have to be four Clans! Around them, the cold wind whipped the snow into drifts. “Yellowfang!”

The old cat was fading, and with her his dream-vision. Jayfeather was plunged once more into blackness.

As the dusk patrol returned and settled down to share tongues, Jayfeather slipped out of the medicine den.

“Good luck!” Millie called as he padded softly around the clearing.

“Take care,” Briarlight added.

The young warrior was sharing a scrawny robin with her littermates, and Jayfeather could sense the relief washing over Millie’s pelt. He hadn’t told her why Briarlight had refused to eat, but Millie hadn’t asked. When the gray warrior had come to the medicine den to check on her kit and found her gulping down the mouse, paws stained with herbs, she’d been delighted.

“Keep her busy,” Jayfeather had advised. “She still has two paws, and they’ll get restless if they’re given nothing to do.”

Lionblaze and Dovepaw were yet again describing the miraculous defeat of the fox to their Clanmates. No one seemed to notice that the story changed a tiny bit in every telling. Rosepetal and Foxleap were begging for every detail.

“What was your winning move?”

“How did you avoid its teeth?”

Jayfeather hadn’t told them about his vision. He wanted to visit the Moonpool first. He wanted to see if the rest of StarClan agreed with Yellowfang. He slipped through the barrier of thorns, leaving the voices of his Clanmates behind.

As he broke from the trees, the moorland wind pierced his fur. Flattening his ears against it, he bounded along the slope to the dip where the medicine cats met before traveling together to the Moonpool. His paws sank deep into snow. It reached his belly where it had drifted, and he was breathless by the time he scented Kestrelflight and Willowshine.

“Not good traveling weather,” he called to them.

“At least it’s stopped snowing,” Kestrelflight responded.

Willowshine shook out her fish-scented fur. “Can we go now? It’s freezing.”

“Where are Littlecloud and Flametail?” Jayfeather tasted the air but there was no scent of the ShadowClan medicine cats.

“They’ll have to catch up.” Willowshine was already heading away. “It’s too cold to sit still.”

Snow crunched as Kestrelflight fell into step beside the RiverClan medicine cat. “Hopefully our tracks will make their path easier.”

Their tracks certainly helped Jayfeather. He followed the furrow the others carved in the snow, but even so, keeping his balance on the rocky shores of the stream took all his concentration. He had no chance to focus on the thoughts of his companions. By the time he’d scrambled up the cliff and hauled himself into the hollow, he was panting.

Willowshine was standing on the lip of the hollow. “No sign of Littlecloud or Flametail,” she declared. “I hope there’s no trouble in ShadowClan.”

“We’ll find out soon enough if there is,” Kestrelflight answered.

“Should we wait?” Willowshine wondered.

Jayfeather was already following the path that spiraled down to the Moonpool. “If you can’t see them on the trail by now, they’re not coming.” Snow covered the dimples in the rock where countless paw steps had passed before him.

“Is the Moonpool frozen?” Kestrelflight hurried after him.

Jayfeather touched it with a paw, relieved to feel it ripple softly against his fur. “No.” The hollow must have sheltered the water from the coldest winds. He sank down in the snow and waited for Kestrelflight and Willowshine to settle beside the pool.

“I hope Littlecloud and Flametail are all right,” Willowshine fretted. Her fur brushed against the snow as she rested her chin on her paws and touched her nose to the water. Kestrelflight’s breathing had already slowed. They would both be in trances before long.

Jayfeather waited. There was no need for him to walk in his own dreams tonight. Yellowfang had already spoken to him. Focusing on Kestrelflight, he let his mind flow into the young WindClan cat’s dreams.

Wind tugged his fur, warm and playful. Jayfeather looked around, blinking at the sweep of sky and land before him. He was standing on the arching spine of a rocky hilltop. Forested slopes fell away in front of his paws. Far away the trees darkened toward a shadowy horizon. Is that the Dark Forest?

Voices sounded below the crest of the slope, and Jayfeather quickly scooted behind a boulder. As the voices grew nearer, Jayfeather peered around the side. Kestrelflight was walking beside Barkface. The raddled old WindClan medicine cat hung his head and dragged his tail as though the sky weighed heavily on his back. Another WindClan cat walked beside them. Jayfeather squinted. He didn’t recognize the light brown she-cat with ginger patches and eyes bluer than the lake in greenleaf.

“Explain it to him, Daisytail,” Barkface meowed gruffly. “I knew he wouldn’t believe me alone.”

“It’s not that I don’t believe you,” Kestrelflight objected. “It’s just hard to take in.”

The she-cat spoke, her voice as spirited as the wind lifting Jayfeather’s pelt. “I stood up for my Clanmates once so that I could protect their future. I led the queens against a leader who believed kits should be trained before they were six moons.” Her eyes clouded, and Jayfeather felt pride and grief battling in her heart. “There comes a time when we must stand and fight.”

“But I’m a medicine cat,” Kestrelflight reminded her. “I follow a different code than a warrior.”

“Everything is changing,” Barkface growled. “WindClan’s greatest battle is coming. We cannot let the treachery of other Clans sap our strengths.”

“We must stand alone,” Daisytail insisted.

Why? Jayfeather frowned. Four patrols could not drive the fox from our territory. Today Lionblaze sent it fleeing for its life. Was Yellowfang’s prophecy true?

“You must trust in your ancestors, not in other Clans,” Barkface warned. “The past will be your strength, not the present.”

Kestrelflight looked ruffled. “But who will this battle be against? Why must we fight alone? Tallstar never saw any weakness in allying the Clan with others to make it stronger.”

Daisytail narrowed her eyes. “Tallstar was blinded by friendships,” she mewed pointedly. Jayfeather wondered if she was referring to the long friendship between Firestar and the WindClan leader.

Kestrelflight searched Barkface’s gaze. “Is that who we’ll be fighting? Another Clan?”

“You don’t know your enemy yet,” he rasped. “But you’ll know them when the time comes.”

Jayfeather felt the fur on his neck prickle. Why not tell him? Shouldn’t he know that his Clan was going to face an army of the most dark-hearted warriors ever to have walked forest, moor, or stream?

Daisytail padded into Kestrelflight’s path, blocking his way. “Don’t tell any of the other medicine cats about this,” she warned.

Kestrelflight blinked. “Won’t they already know?”

“Betrayal could come from anywhere,” Barkface growled. “You must stand alone, knowing your ancestors walk with you, and you alone.”

Daisytail jerked her head around and tasted the air. Jayfeather ducked back behind the rock. Had she smelled him? Taking no risks, he backed away down a short, steep slope, flinching as pebbles clattered down beside him. He slid into a narrow gully and followed it quickly away from the hilltop. The rocky channel wound down, cutting ever deeper into the hillside. Jayfeather quickened his step until the slopes of the gully began to smooth into grassy banks. Soon he was following a stony path that opened onto a pebbly shore beside a stream.

Willows drooped over its banks. Ferns clustered at the water’s edge. Instinctively, Jayfeather headed for cover. This was not his dream. Keeping to the ferns, he headed downstream until he caught sight of a rock. Wide and flat, it broke from the water and split the current around it. He recognized Willowshine’s gray tabby pelt silhouetted on the rock, and beside her, Mudfur, the ancient RiverClan medicine cat. Graypool sat with them, paws rooted to the stone even when water splashed and lapped at them.

“You must stand alone,” Mudfur ordered.

Jayfeather pricked his ears harder. The rushing of the stream drowned their words.

“…ancestors will walk with you…” Graypool was staring intently at Willowshine.

Willowshine bristled. “…cats have always helped each…”

Graypool shook her head. “…have changed. We must change too…”

“Can I tell Mothwing?”

Graypool flashed a glance at Mudfur. “She won’t believe you, but you can tell her.”

Mudfur dipped his head. “She’s a good medicine cat. She will protect her Clanmates through this terrible battle.”

“Please,” Willowshine begged. “What is this battle? Who will we be fighting?”

Jayfeather saw the older cats shake their heads. The stream washed around them.

“…more terrible than your worst nightmares…”

“…darker than you can dream of…”

“…a river of blood…”

Willowshine leaned away from them, her whiskers quivering with fear.

Angry now, Jayfeather slid through the ferns, away from the water’s edge. It seemed like every cat in StarClan was in a state of panic! Did they really think that dividing the Clans and crippling them with fear would help? He must share what he knew with the other medicine cats. They faced a real enemy.

“Do you believe me now?”

Jayfeather jerked to a halt as Yellowfang blocked his path.

“All four Clans must stand alone,” she hissed. “The Dark Forest moves among them. You can’t trust anyone. Why do you think the ShadowClan cats stayed away from the Moonpool tonight? They have abandoned you already. And WindClan and RiverClan will abandon you now.”

“Not if I tell them what’s really going on.”

Yellowfang sprang at him, bowling him over. “No!” She pressed him hard to the ground. “Can’t you read the signs? Lionblaze beat the fox single-pawed!” she hissed. “If you don’t keep quiet, all four Clans will be lost to the darkness.”

Struggling, Jayfeather blinked open his eyes and found himself beside the Moonpool, his vision black once more. Fur brushed snow. Kestrelflight was heading away up the path. Willowshine was already at the top, walking quickly as if she didn’t want to speak to her companions. Was the bond between medicine cats so easily broken?

Jayfeather scrambled to his paws. He had to warn them. “The Dark Forest—”

Crackling silenced him. Ice splintered behind him, echoing around the walls of the hollow. Jayfeather turned, and his vision was flooded with starlight. The Moonpool was freezing over, ice spreading like fire through grass, reaching over the water until the whole pool was white.

Jayfeather stared around the hollow. Hope flared in his chest. Cats of StarClan lined the glittering walls. The ranks of star-pelted warriors sat silent and still. Jayfeather looked more closely. Was that Rock among them? Jayfeather recognized the ancient, hairless cat with a surge of joy. Had he come to help StarClan? Perhaps he’d changed their minds? Perhaps the cats of StarClan were going to face the Dark Forest together after all?

As he watched, pleading silently for some kind of sign, he saw the hollow start to whiten. One after another, the StarClan warriors turned to ice, their fur glistening, their whiskers stiffening, before shattering into cruel, prickling shards in the cold, dead moonlight.

Only Rock remained. He stared blankly at Jayfeather, his bulging blind eyes as frosted as the Moonpool.

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