Chapter 9

Jayfeather shivered as a cold wind probed his fur with icy claws. He stood at the crest of a hill; around him a copse of pine trees bent their tops into the gale, their branches rattling together. Above the trees, the sky heaved with gray clouds.

“I’ve had enough of this,” Jayfeather muttered, gazing out across the bleak landscape. “I’m leaving.”

But before he could wake from his dream he heard the puffing breath of a cat climbing the hill, and spotted a skinny gray shape struggling through the thorny undergrowth.

“Yellowfang,” he sighed as the cat emerged into the open. “Did we really have to meet here? This wind is blowing my fur off.”

Yellowfang halted in front of him and stared at him from narrowed amber eyes. Jayfeather thought that she looked even scruffier than usual. Her pelt was ruffled by the wind, her breath stank, and her eyes were gummy, as if she hadn’t groomed herself for moons.

“I chose this place because I can’t risk any cat overhearing us,” Yellowfang informed him, wheezing.

“There’s still a bad feeling in StarClan, then?” Jayfeather asked.

“Yes!” the old she-cat hissed. “And you must trust no cat!”

Jayfeather dug his claws into the cold ground. He felt chilled to the bone, and wanted nothing more than to wake into his warm den. “What do you want?” he mewed impatiently.

“To tell you what you must do,” Yellowfang replied. “You need to recruit another medicine cat. I don’t mean an apprentice. I mean the other fully trained cat that lives in ThunderClan.”

Jayfeather’s pelt prickled with surprise. “But Leafpool isn’t a medicine cat anymore,” he pointed out. “That’s beyond my control—or yours.”

Regret clouded the old gray cat’s eyes. “I know,” she mewed sadly. “I don’t mean Leafpool. What she did was so wrong when judged against the medicine cat code, it’s as if her training had never existed. Don’t underestimate the depth of her punishment, Jayfeather. She hasn’t only given up her place as medicine cat. She’s forbidden to use her knowledge, even though she worked so hard to achieve it.”

Jayfeather felt a flash of frustration. Like you didn’t have a kit of your own, even if your Clan never knew the truth. “That’s like punishing the whole Clan for one cat’s mistake!” he hissed.

“It was a grave mistake.” Yellowfang’s voice was somber.

“Then what do you mean about another medicine cat?” Jayfeather prompted. “Not Briarlight or Brightheart, surely? They know more than the others, but they haven’t had any real training. Brightheart hasn’t even been to the Moonpool.”

Yellowfang lashed her scraggy tail. “You should know who I mean, mouse-brain,” she rasped. “ThunderClan has a third medicine cat—Cinderheart. Perhaps it’s time to tell her who she really is.”

Jayfeather flinched. “You think so? Will she believe me?”

“She will if you walk in her dreams,” Yellowfang meowed. “Take her back to the life she had before. All the knowledge is there; she just needs to reach out for it.”

Disconcerted by the burning intensity in Yellowfang’s amber eyes, Jayfeather took a step back. “Wait. Cinderpelt was your apprentice; she doesn’t have to be mine. How can I train a new medicine cat with everything else that’s going on?”

Yellowfang rolled her eyes. “You won’t need to train her!” she spat. “She already knows more than you do. She just needs to remember who she is.”

Jayfeather bristled. “I’ll think about it,” he snapped.

“Make sure you do,” Yellowfang mewed. “Or I might walk in her dreams myself.”

That would scare Cinderheart out of her fur, Jayfeather thought, unable to imagine anything more unsettling for the young warrior.

“All right, I’ll do it,” he growled.

Yellowfang turned to leave, then glanced back over her shoulder. “You have to be ready for the worst battle the Clans have ever known,” she reminded him. “One medicine cat will not be enough!”

Jayfeather woke to darkness. He was curled comfortably in the moss and fern of his nest in the medicine cat’s den; the air around him was warm, and full of the fresh scents of early greenleaf. But although his body was at ease, his mind was troubled, and he felt as if he had scarcely rested at all.

Outside in the clearing, cats were moving around; Jayfeather could hear Brambleclaw’s voice as the deputy organized the patrols. Paws scampered closer to his den, and Cherrypaw’s voice rose above the background murmur.

“Sol—come and watch us training, please!”

“Yeah,” Molepaw added. “I’ve learned this really cool battle move I want to show you.”

Jayfeather raised his head out of his nest and tasted the air. He could pick up the apprentice’s scent, along with Sol’s, just outside the bramble screen. Rosepetal and Cloudtail, who was still mentoring Cherrypaw, stood a couple of tail-lengths farther away.

“That’s really not a good idea,” Rosepetal meowed. “Sol has better things to do than watch a couple of apprentices.”

“And we want you to concentrate on your training session,” Cloudtail added, his voice cool with dislike of Sol. “Not showing off for a visitor.”

“It’s kind of you to ask me,” Sol mewed to the two young cats. “But I have other duties right now. I’ll want to hear a full report of what you’ve learned when I get back.”

Jayfeather heard a suppressed hiss from Cloudtail, and sensed a wave of annoyance rolling off him. He could understand what the white warrior felt. Sol is talking as if he’s our Clan leader!

“Jayfeather?”

Focused on what was happening outside the den, Jayfeather hadn’t noticed Brightheart dragging herself up to him.

“Jayfeather, can I go and speak to Sol?” she asked.

The eagerness in her tone irritated Jayfeather. “He’s not going to mend your back, if that’s what you’re thinking,” he snapped.

“I wasn’t hoping for that,” Briarlight huffed. “I’m curious about him, that’s all.”

“Well, don’t be,” Jayfeather retorted. “He’s nothing special.”

“He saved the apprentices from the fox,” Briarlight reminded him.

Jayfeather snorted. “Maybe.”

I can’t believe Lionblaze and I got it so wrong, he thought. Sol was the last cat we were expecting to turn up.

The apprentices and their mentors moved away. Sol loitered for a few more moments outside the den, then he, too, retreated in the direction of the entrance. Jayfeather hauled himself out of his nest and began to groom the scraps of moss and bracken from his fur.

“Jayfeather!” Daisy’s voice came from the other side of the bramble screen. “Can you come and have a look at Sorreltail?”

Leaving his grooming unfinished, Jayfeather brushed past the screen and out into the camp. Daisy was waiting for him a tail-length away.

“Is something wrong?” he asked.

“I’m not sure,” Daisy admitted, falling in beside him as he padded toward the warriors’ den. “You’re the medicine cat. But I’ve seen a lot of cats near to giving birth, and I’m not sure I like the look of Sorreltail.”

Jayfeather replied with a grunt. As he slid between the outer branches of the warriors’ den, his nose twitched at the musty scent of dried moss and fern. Most of the cats were already out on patrol; he located Sorreltail lying in a nest near the edge of the den, and picked his way through the bedding to her side.

“Hi, Jayfeather,” the tortoiseshell warrior meowed. “You didn’t need to come. I’m fine.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” Jayfeather muttered.

Sorreltail’s voice sounded tired, and as Jayfeather sniffed at her he picked up her feelings of anxiety and exhaustion. “You’re trying to do too much,” he told her. “You’re less than half a moon from giving birth, and keeping up with your warrior duties is wearing you out.”

“But last time—” Sorreltail began.

“Like it or not, you’re older than the last time you had kits,” Jayfeather pointed out. “You need to slow down to give yourself a chance to stay in good health. Birth is a very difficult time.”

Sorreltail sighed. “I know.”

As both cats fell silent, Jayfeather felt her flank shudder beneath his forepaw, and he was plunged into a terrible whirlpool of memory. He felt Sorreltail’s agony as she gave birth; he shared her horror as the badger forced its way into the nursery. He saw Cinderpelt leap bravely to protect Sorreltail and heard her shriek cut off abruptly as the huge creature clamped its jaws on her neck and shook her. In the same heartbeat he heard the thin wail of a tiny gray kit, born as the medicine cat gave up her life.

Jayfeather shivered. That was when Cinderpelt became Cinderheart. And now Yellowfang says that I need to bring her back, for the sake of the Clan.

He started, jerked out of the memory, as he realized that Sorreltail was speaking again, her voice low and weary.

“I know you’re right,” she mewed. “These kits need to have the best possible start. And if that means sitting around for this last half-moon… well, so be it!”

“Thank you, Sorreltail,” Jayfeather replied. “You’ve made the right decision.” And made my job a lot easier, he added to himself.

“Come on, then, Sorreltail,” Daisy mewed, bustling forward and nudging the tortoiseshell warrior to her paws. “Ferncloud and I have made you a really comfortable nest in the nursery.”

Jayfeather’s anxieties faded as he edged his way out of the warriors’ den. It’s obvious Sorreltail is going to be thoroughly mothered before these kits arrive!

Back in the clearing, Jayfeather listened for Cinderheart’s pawsteps, wondering whether this was the right time to speak to her. What in the name of StarClan am I going to say?

His ears twitched as he heard paw steps padding toward him, but the scent that he picked up was Birchfall’s. “Are you busy right now?” he asked.

“No,” the tabby tom replied. “Do you want something?”

“Yes—Cinderheart,” Jayfeather replied. “If you see her, would you tell her I want a word with her?”

“Sure.” Birchfall padded off.

Jayfeather headed for the warriors’ den, but when he paused to taste the air there was no trace of Cinderheart among the mingled scents. He stood lashing his tail with frustration. She must be out on patrol.

Then a voice spoke close to his ear. “Are you looking for Cinderheart?”

Jayfeather stiffened as Leafpool’s scent washed over him. How does she know that?

“Yes,” he replied warily. “Have you seen her?”

“Yes, but I need to speak to you first.”

Jayfeather hesitated, unwilling to discuss Cinderheart—or anything else—with his mother. But he could sense Leafpool’s determination, and knew he wouldn’t be able to put her off. “Okay,” he sighed. “Go ahead.”

“Not here,” Leafpool meowed. “Let’s go into the forest. I don’t think that what I have to say should be overheard.”

Suppressing a sigh, Jayfeather followed her out of the forest and into the camp. As he padded beside her, he felt the usual sense of disbelief that Leafpool was his mother. Sometimes she felt more like a stranger to him than a cat from another Clan.

Leafpool halted beneath a broad tree with noisy, rustling leaves; Jayfeather could hear the trickle of water close by. “So?” he demanded.

“I had a dream last night,” Leafpool murmured; Jayfeather had to lean close to hear her. “Spottedleaf came to me, and told me that Yellowfang wants to tell Cinderheart about… about who she was before. Is that right?”

“Yes,” Jayfeather replied.

“Well, she can’t!” Leafpool burst out; Jayfeather winced at the lightning bolt of her emotions. “Cinderheart has been given the chance to live a different life, as a warrior and as a mother. If you tell her about her previous life, you will rob her of that chance.”

Jayfeather could hear Leafpool tearing at the grass with her claws. He tried to interrupt her, but she ignored him.

“I was Cinderpelt’s apprentice,” Leafpool went on. “I knew her well. I knew she had longed to be a warrior, a mate, and a mother, but all that was taken away from her when she had the accident on the Thunderpath. In spite of that, she was a good medicine cat, one of the best that ThunderClan will ever have. I won’t let her life be taken away from her again!”

“But the Clan has to come first,” Jayfeather argued. “More medicine cats are needed.”

Leafpool was silent for a moment. Both of them knew that she was a fully trained medicine cat quite capable of caring for her Clan, if only she hadn’t broken the medicine cat code, as well as the warrior code, by taking a cat from another Clan as her mate. But neither she nor Jayfeather mentioned that. The silence stretched out until it tingled between them as if a storm were about to break.

“Individual cats are important, too,” Leafpool went on at last. “You could take an apprentice. Briarlight is already doing a great job.”

“Oh, sure!” Jayfeather lashed his tail. “Wouldn’t that just be great? One medicine cat who can’t see, and another who can’t walk. ThunderClan would be invincible!”

“I know you see much more than the rest of us,” Leafpool stated calmly. “You can’t use that as an excuse. But I’m telling you, Cinderheart deserves a different life this time. That’s why StarClan gave her a second chance. Spottedleaf said so, in my dream. I won’t let you spoil everything for her again.”

Without giving Jayfeather a chance to respond, she rose and walked away.

Jayfeather stayed beneath the tree, thoughts swirling in his head. He had to admit that Leafpool had a point: If StarClan had interfered enough to let Cinderheart have another life, he knew there must be a very good reason for it. And Yellowfang isn’t thinking straight at the moment, he reminded himself. She’s too closely caught up in the rivalries inside StarClan, and her fear of the Dark Forest.

Jayfeather returned slowly to the camp, still unsure about what he should do. Before he had even reached his den, he picked up Cinderheart’s scent and heard her paw steps approaching.

“Birchfall said you were looking for me,” she meowed. Her voice was cheerful. “Do you need me to do something?”

As clearly as if he could see, Jayfeather was aware of Leafpool’s gaze fixed on him. He took a deep breath. “Nothing important,” he told Cinderheart. “It can wait until another day.”

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