Jayfeather pushed through the thorns into the camp just after sunhigh. The chill dawn wind had dropped as he journeyed back from the Moonpool, and warm light bathed the clearing. The stone hollow was deserted, and Jayfeather realized that all the warriors and apprentices would be out on patrol. He was heading for his den when he heard Mousefur’s voice.
“Jayfeather! Come here a moment.”
Jayfeather padded across and found the elder crouching alone outside her den. “Where’s Purdy?” he asked.
“Hollyleaf took him for a walk in the forest,” Mousefur replied. “I didn’t want to go. My legs are aching too much.”
“We can sort that out,” Jayfeather assured her. “I’ll go and fetch you some daisy leaves.”
“I didn’t call you over for that,” Mousefur snapped at him. “It’s about Hollyleaf.”
Jayfeather stood frozen with shock as Mousefur described the scene that had taken place in camp that morning. “Then Brambleclaw told every cat that he’d seen what happened,” she meowed. “That Ashfur attacked Hollyleaf and then fell into the stream by accident. I was sitting right here and I heard everything.”
She paused and Jayfeather could feel her gaze burning into his pelt. His mind was whirling. What does it all mean? What’s going to happen, now that every cat thinks they know the truth? What happens if the real truth comes out?
“You knew this all along, didn’t you?” the old cat asked shrewdly.
Jayfeather nodded.
“But you said nothing?”
“What was the point? Hollyleaf had gone, and the situation was more complicated than it looked because of Ashfur’s threats. He threatened me, too, you know.”
Mousefur sniffed. “So it suited you to have him dead.”
“It suited the whole Clan,” Jayfeather retorted, refusing to be disconcerted by the elder’s plain speaking. “Ashfur was determined to cause trouble for every cat.”
“I won’t say that no harm was done,” Mousefur grunted, “because harm has been done. To Ashfur, to Hollyleaf, to Brambleclaw, to you. And now the Clan has to carry on as normal, is that what you want?”
Jayfeather licked one paw and drew it over his ear, giving himself time to figure out a reply. “I think there are bigger things to worry about right now than the death of one cat many moons ago.”
Mousefur snorted, then lapsed into silence. Jayfeather was getting ready to leave when she spoke again. “Darkness is coming, isn’t it?”
Jayfeather felt every hair on his pelt begin to rise. “What do you know?” he asked hoarsely. Could Mousefur be the fourth cat in the prophecy? An elder?
“I don’t know anything that could help us,” Mousefur admitted. Her voice was bleak. “But my dreams have been troubled for a long time.” She let out a weary sigh. “I never thought that I would live to see the end of the Clans.”
Jayfeather leaned close to her. “This will not be the end of the Clans,” he meowed. “As long as I have breath in my body, the Clans will be safe.”
He waited beside Mousefur until the old cat drifted into sleep, muttering and twitching. She’s so old, he thought. Does she really know what she is saying? As he rose and headed for his own den, Jayfeather’s fur prickled at the truth of what Mousefur had said about keeping quiet about Hollyleaf and Ashfur.
But the Clan must move forward, he told himself. There’s no time to waste looking back at what can’t be changed.
Before he reached his den, Jayfeather heard the sounds of cats brushing through the thorn barrier, and he heard Purdy’s voice.
“There was this fox, see, took to wanderin’ through my Upwalker’s garden. Well, I wasn’t havin’ any of that, so what do you think I did?”
“I have no idea, Purdy,” Hollyleaf replied, sounding distracted. “Hey, watch out for that bramble!”
“I can see it,” Purdy muttered. “I’m not a young ’un like you, but I’ve got eyes. Anyway,” he went on, “I hid under this holly bush, see, right next to my Upwalker’s fence, an’—”
He broke off as Jayfeather approached. “Hollyleaf, I need to talk to you.”
“We were talkin’,” Purdy retorted with dignity, before Hollyleaf could reply. “Don’t they raise young cats with manners anymore?” He gave a disgusted sniff. “I’ll be in my den when you’ve finished, Hollyleaf, an’ I’ll tell you the rest of the story.”
Jayfeather heard him stalking away. “Come over here,” he meowed to Hollyleaf. With his sister following him, he padded over to the bottom of the cliff and sat in a sheltered spot underneath an elder bush.
“You know, don’t you?” Hollyleaf guessed as she settled down beside him. “What happened this morning?”
“Mousefur told me,” Jayfeather replied. He hesitated for a moment and then went on, “Hollyleaf, do you understand what Brambleclaw has done for you?”
Jayfeather knew what it must have cost the Clan deputy to speak out as he had. It was hard for him to appreciate what it meant, how much Brambleclaw—and Squirrelflight, too, he admitted to himself—had loved him and his littermates. And maybe they love us still. He felt as uncomfortable as if ants were making their nest in his pelt.
“They all know now,” Hollyleaf murmured, her voice stricken. “They know I killed a cat.”
Jayfeather reached out and rested his paw on her shoulder. “It was an accident, remember.”
He could feel Hollyleaf’s gaze on him, scorching him like a flame. “But it wasn’t,” she whispered.
Jayfeather heard Mousefur’s words echoing in his ears, telling him how much harm had been done as a result of that single moment. He shook his head as if he could get rid of her voice like a buzzing insect.
“Enough,” he insisted. “We have to live with what has happened. I’m glad you came back. I missed you.”
“I missed you, too,” Hollyleaf murmured. Jayfeather felt the light touch of her nose on his ear, only for a moment. “I just hope I’ve done the right thing by coming back. Perhaps it would have been better if you’d all forgotten about me.”
“We would never have done that,” Jayfeather told her, leaning closer to her and drinking in her scent. “Never.”
In the silence that followed, Jayfeather could hear the breeze rustling in the trees overhead, and farther away the sound of cats approaching the camp. As they drew closer, he heard the excited voices of the apprentices.
“I caught two mice!”
“And I caught a squirrel! It’s huge!”
The hunting patrol emerged from the thorns, Cherrypaw and Molepaw scampering ahead. Lionblaze and Cinderheart followed, with Rosepetal and Foxleap bringing up the rear.
“Hey, take it easy,” Cinderheart warned the apprentices. “You’ll make every cat think that badgers are invading.” Her tone was gently teasing. “But you’ve hunted very well today,” she went on. “Molepaw, why don’t you take your mice to Mousefur and Purdy? They’re so nice and plump I’m sure they’ll tempt their appetites.”
Jayfeather heard Molepaw scurrying off, while Cherrypaw dragged her squirrel to the fresh-kill pile.
Cinderheart is a natural mentor, he thought, even though these aren’t her apprentices. And she couldn’t be a more loyal warrior to ThunderClan. StarClan made the right decision when they let her live a second life.
Grief sharp as thorns suddenly pierced Jayfeather, as if he had stumbled into a bramble thicket. Tensing, he realized that it came from Lionblaze.
“What’s the matter?” he asked.
“You wouldn’t understand,” Lionblaze snapped. “All you ever think about is this dumb prophecy.”
Jayfeather bit back a sharp reply as he realized that his brother’s grief was tangled with longing for Cinderheart. “Try me,” he suggested.
For a few heartbeats Lionblaze was silent. “I know Cinderheart wants to be with me,” he meowed grudgingly at last. “But she thinks she can’t, because I have a destiny. She thinks I’m too important!” He spat out the last word and stalked away before Jayfeather could reply.
Anger surged up inside Jayfeather, and for a moment he wanted to yowl his pain to the sky. Half Moon… No cat in ThunderClan knew of his love for the long-ago cat, lost to him now through the passing of so many seasons. He would have given anything to have her beside him again. Remembering her now helped him to understand his brother’s hurt and frustration.
“She thinks he’s the only cat who’s important?” he muttered to himself. “Maybe it’s time some cat showed her just how wrong she is.”
That night Jayfeather curled up in his nest and took a deep breath before letting himself sink into sleep. He knew exactly where he wanted to go.
Somehow we have to settle this, once and for all. Not for Lionblaze, or even the Clan, but for Cinderheart. I have to show her what a great cat she is.
His eyes opened in a sun-filled forest, where thick foliage rustled above his head and the undergrowth was filled with the murmurings of prey. Jayfeather padded through the ferns, enjoying the cool grass beneath his pads and the warmth of sunbeams that struck down through the canopy. All his senses were alert as he searched for one particular cat.
Soon he heard a rush of paws, a pounce, and a hiss of disappointment. “Mouse dung! I missed it!”
Heading in the direction of the voice, Jayfeather bounded around a tree stump and burst into a sun-dappled clearing. Cinderheart was standing at the foot of a tree, looking up with a disgusted expression on her face. On a branch above her head a squirrel was chattering crossly.
“Bad luck,” Jayfeather meowed.
Cinderheart started. “Wow! Jayfeather—I didn’t expect to see you here.” A fearful look flickered in her eyes. “I am still dreaming, right? I’m not in StarClan?”
“Don’t worry,” Jayfeather reassured her. “This isn’t StarClan. Everything’s fine, and yes, you are dreaming. There’s something I need to tell you.”
Cinderheart faced him warily. “What is it?”
For a moment Jayfeather stood in silence, not sure where to begin. Get on with it! he told himself. You started this, so you’d better finish it. “It will be easier if I show you,” he mewed aloud. “Come with me.”
He set off with Cinderheart padding at his shoulder. Jayfeather pictured in his head the old ThunderClan camp, with the former cats leading their busy everyday lives. Gradually as they passed through the trees the old forest took shape around them. A stream appeared, splashing beneath arching fronds of bracken, and a jay swooped out of the branches of an oak tree. Jayfeather heard a gasp from Cinderheart as she realized that she had somehow left the territory of her dream and was on unfamiliar ground.
A patrol flashed through the undergrowth a couple of fox-lengths away; Jayfeather recognized younger versions of Firestar, Graystripe, and Sandstorm. Turning to follow, he saw them halt at the foot of a tree where a young gray she-cat was gathering celandine.
“Picking flowers again?” Sandstorm teased.
The young she-cat flicked her tail. “Flowers and leaves,” she replied, unruffled, though her blue eyes were sparkling with amusement. “Do you have a problem with that, Sandstorm? Because if you do, you’d better take it up with Yellowfang.”
Sandstorm took a pace back, shaking her head. “Anything but that!” she yelped in mock alarm.
“Yeah, she doesn’t want to get her ears clawed,” Graystripe meowed.
“Why don’t we keep on hunting?” Firestar suggested. “Maybe we’ll catch something good and fat for Yellowfang to put her in a good mood for once. You’re doing a great job,” he added to the gray she-cat as he led the patrol away.
“Make it a squirrel!” the she-cat called after them. “That’s Yellowfang’s favorite at the moment!”
Jayfeather was aware of Cinderheart standing beside him, her pelt bristling as she stared in astonishment. “That… that’s me,” she stammered. “I mean, it’s not, but it looks just like me.”
“No, it’s not you,” Jayfeather responded. “At least, not then.”
Cinderheart shot him a baffled look, but said no more.
When she had collected enough celandine, Cinderpelt picked up the bundle in her jaws and headed off, limping heavily. Jayfeather and Cinderheart followed. The medicine cat apprentice wove her way confidently through the undergrowth until she came to the head of the ravine that led down to the camp.
“Does she know we’re following her?” Cinderheart whispered.
Jayfeather shook his head. “She can’t see us. We aren’t really here.”
Cinderpelt padded down the ravine and vanished into the gorse tunnel. Jayfeather and Cinderheart followed and soon they emerged into the old ThunderClan camp. Jayfeather’s gaze swept the clearing, taking in the dens, the fresh-kill pile, and the Highrock where the Clan leader’s den was. Not Firestar, Jayfeather reminded himself. He’s not Clan leader yet.
“This is so weird…” Cinderheart murmured.
They padded behind Cinderpelt as she carried her bundle of herbs through the ferns and into the medicine cat’s den. Yellowfang sat in the smaller clearing, looking just as scrawny and ungroomed as she did whenever Jayfeather met her in StarClan.
“That’s a good bundle,” Yellowfang praised her apprentice gruffly, trudging over to sniff the celandine. “Some of the leaves are a bit wilted, though.”
“They’ll be fine if we use those first,” Cinderpelt pointed out.
Yellowfang snorted. “All right. Put them away and then come over here.”
While Cinderpelt stowed the celandine in a cleft in the rock at the back of the den, Yellowfang padded over to a clump of ferns a couple of tail-lengths away. For the first time Jayfeather saw that a large white tom was sitting among the ferns, his fur rumpled and a look of pain in his eyes.
“Whitestorm had an argument with a bramble thicket,” Yellowfang rasped as Cinderpelt returned. “He has a thorn in his paw. What do you think we should do for him?”
“Advise him to stay away from brambles,” Cinderpelt meowed, provoking a snort of amusement from the white tom. “But for now, we need to get the thorn out, tell him to give the paw a good lick, and rub it with marigold to make sure it doesn’t get infected.”
“Quite right.” Yellowfang gave a nod of satisfaction.
“I have a good mentor!” Cinderpelt responded, warmth in her blue eyes.
Yellowfang gave her an affectionate nudge, but all she said was, “Better get on with it, then.”
“Whoever she is, she’s a great medicine cat,” Cinderheart commented, as Cinderpelt bent her head over Whitestorm’s paw and swiftly extracted the thorn with her teeth.
“Yes, she was,” Jayfeather agreed.
“Did you know her?” Cinderheart asked curiously, her gaze still fixed on the gray cat.
“Not then. This was before ThunderClan came to the lake.”
Cinderheart turned to gaze at him, her eyes as big as moons. “So this is ThunderClan in the past? Is that why Firestar and the others look so much younger? But how… why…?”
“You don’t need to worry about that,” Jayfeather reassured her. “Just keep watching. That medicine cat apprentice is called Cinderpelt.” He felt a pulse of shock run through Cinderheart as she heard the name that was so like her own, but she didn’t interrupt him. “She wanted to be a warrior just like you,” he continued, “but she was injured before she finished her training. Did you notice that she limps? Her leg will never heal properly. She knew she would never be able to keep up with patrols, so she became a medicine cat instead. She taught Leafpool, you know.”
“Wow…” Cinderheart breathed. “I’ve heard about her. Didn’t she die saving my mother?”
“Her death meant more than that,” Jayfeather replied, though he didn’t explain any further. She’ll find out soon enough.
While they were speaking, white mist drifted out of the ferns, wreathing around them until it blotted out the medicine cats’ den.
“What’s happening?” Cinderheart whimpered.
“It’s okay,” Jayfeather repeated. “Just wait.”
After a few heartbeats the mist cleared. The two cats were standing on a hillside, where rough moorland grass swept upward to huge peaks of gray stone. A long line of cats was trekking across it, their fur buffeted by the wind. Cats from all four Clans—long-legged WindClan, broad-shouldered ThunderClan, sleek-furred RiverClan, and lean ShadowClan—walked side by side, talking quietly.
“It’s the Great Journey!” Cinderheart exclaimed. “They’re heading for the mountains. Jayfeather, why are you showing me this?”
“You’ll find out,” Jayfeather promised. “Look, there’s Cinderpelt again. She’s the only medicine cat in ThunderClan now.”
Padding closer, Jayfeather saw that Mousefur—a younger, stronger Mousefur, before she retired to the elders’ den—was talking to Cinderpelt.
“My paws hurt,” she was complaining. “It’s walking over all these sharp stones that does it. It’s not natural for cats.”
“I’m sure we’ll rest soon,” Cinderpelt replied sympathetically. “When we do, I’ll bring you some dock leaves to rub on your pads. You’ll find that helps a lot.”
Mousefur gave her a brusque nod and limped on. Heartbeats later, a mottled brown kit bounced up to Cinderpelt and announced, “I’ve got burrs in my fur!”
That must be Applefur, Jayfeather thought, recognizing a tiny version of the ShadowClan warrior.
“Oh, it’s Applekit!” Cinderpelt yelped with mock astonishment. “I thought for a heartbeat there was a giant burr chasing me. Never mind. When we stop, I’ll help you untangle them. Until then, watch where you’re putting your paws.”
“Thank you!” Applekit charged off toward her littermates.
Not watching out at all, Jayfeather thought, unsurprised.
Cinderpelt watched the kit go, her head tilted and amusement glimmering in her blue eyes, then returned to the weary toil up the slope. As the cats drew closer to the cliff face, a few snowflakes began to drift down. A wind rose, and soon they were struggling through a blizzard. Jayfeather lost sight of the other cats, and could barely make out Cinderheart fighting her way forward against the wind.
“Over here!” Jayfeather recognized Firestar’s voice. “Every cat shelter under the cliff!”
Together Jayfeather and Cinderheart huddled together in the lee of the gray rocks, at the edge of their Clanmates. The whole world seemed to be full of whirling white flakes. Even the sound of the other cats was lost in the whining of the wind.
Suddenly everything was quiet. The falling snow died away and seemed to melt into the earth. Abruptly the air grew warmer. Jayfeather looked around and realized that he and Cinderheart were back in the stone hollow, crouched against the thorn barrier.
“Oh!” Cinderheart sighed, disappointment in her voice. “Are we back home already?”
“Not quite,” Jayfeather warned.
His words were hardly out when darkness fell over the clearing. Jayfeather heard a grumbling roar growing closer through the trees. Along with it came the sound of trampling, as if twigs were breaking under heavy paws.
“What is it?” Cinderheart gasped.
Before Jayfeather could reply the thorns beside them gave way and badgers erupted into the camp. Warriors surged out of their den to meet them: Jayfeather spotted Squirrelflight hurling herself at one of the leading badgers, with Brambleclaw and Cloudtail just behind her. Firestar let out a yowl of defiance as he plunged into the fight with Dustpelt, Sandstorm, and Thornclaw. Spiderleg and Ashfur were attacking one of the huge creatures together, darting in from both sides to confuse it.
Cinderheart let out a screech of terror. “Jayfeather! What’s happening?”
“It’s okay,” Jayfeather reassured her, thrusting her to one side. “They can’t hurt us.” At least, I hope they can’t.
A horror-struck shriek sounded from the nursery, rising above the clamor from the fighting cats.
“I’m so sorry,” Jayfeather murmured to Cinderheart. “There’s one more thing you have to see. Follow me.”
He led the way across the clearing to the nursery, slipping between the battling shapes that appeared without warning out of the darkness. Squirrelflight lay panting across the entrance, wounded but still guarding the nursery from attack. Jayfeather and Cinderheart passed straight through, somehow without disturbing her.
The nursery was crowded. At the far side, Sorreltail was lying in a mossy nest, her belly heaving as she struggled to give birth. Cinderpelt crouched beside her, gently stroking her belly with one paw. But a badger loomed over both of them, its jaws parted in a threatening snarl. As it raised a paw to swipe at Sorreltail, Cinderpelt turned and sprang between them. The badger’s claws slashed down her side; blood welled out as she collapsed.
“Oh, no—no!” Cinderheart whispered.
Jayfeather was vaguely aware of Leafpool and Crowfeather bursting into the den and attacking the badger, driving it out into the clearing. All his attention was fixed on Cinderpelt. Blood still gushed from her side; she was struggling to breathe, and as Leafpool returned she managed to gasp out a few words before her eyes closed and she went limp.
Behind her in the nest, a tiny kit gave its first thin cry.
Cinderheart’s eyes were wide with horror. “She can’t be dead,” she breathed. “Jayfeather, tell me she’ll be okay.”
“Look at the kit,” was all that Jayfeather said.
Sorreltail was licking the newborn kit with strong, rasping strokes of her tongue. Its gray fur stuck up in tiny spikes. Its delicate nose, the shape of its head, the set of its stubby tail were all echoed in the cat that stood beside Jayfeather.
“That’s me,” Cinderheart murmured in amazement. “That’s how I was born.”
“Yes,” Jayfeather mewed.
Cinderheart turned stricken eyes on him. “Then Cinderpelt gave her life to save mine.”
“Not exactly.” Jayfeather tensed.
Cinderheart blinked in confusion. “But you said she died!”
“Only for a heartbeat,” Jayfeather replied. “And then she was given a whole new life.”
Cinderheart stared at him and he saw the moment when understanding flashed into her eyes. Her voice was scarcely audible, no more than a breath. “And that life was… me.”
Jayfeather nodded. A spiraling flock of emotions was chasing through Cinderheart’s eyes: horror, shock, pride, and then memories upon memories, thicker than falling leaves.
“I’m an apprentice… and Fireheart’s my mentor… he’s such a great teacher!” Cinderheart’s words were coming so fast that Jayfeather could hardly make them out. The she-cat’s flanks twitched as Cinderpelt’s long-buried memories surged through her like a river in full flood. “Hunting’s such fun… and fighting… I want to be the best warrior in the Clan!”
Then she let out a screech of fear and pain. “The monster… no… oh, my leg hurts… I’ll never be a warrior. But I’ll learn all the herbs… marigold for infection, borage leaves for fever, juniper for bellyache, catmint for whitecough and greencough… what are the traveling herbs? Sorrel, daisy, chamomile… oh, and burnet! Must get it right…” Her voice took on a note of deep sadness. “Yellowfang is gone! And now I’m the only medicine cat… It’s so cold here, by the Moonstone. Fireheart is so still… maybe he’s dead. Will StarClan really give him his nine lives?”
Cinderheart began to pant hard, as if she were struggling up a steep slope; then she let out a little cry of wonder and joy. “The lake… it’s so beautiful! Oh, StarClan, thank you for leading us here.” Then the sadness came back, threaded through with a note of fear. “Is that truly my destiny? And Leafpool wants to leave us… what will become of my Clan?”
At last Cinderheart was silent, her breath coming in ragged gasps. In the ruins of the nursery she stared at Jayfeather. “Who am I?” she wailed. “What am I supposed to be?”
Jayfeather stepped forward until he could look down into her distraught blue eyes. “You are Cinderheart,” he insisted. “That is your destiny. StarClan chose to let you live again so that you could follow your first path, to be a great warrior, to have a mate and kits of your own, to fight and hunt for your Clan after caring for them so long from the medicine cat’s den.” He took a deep breath. “Honor StarClan for their decision,” he went on, “and be proud of everything you have achieved in both of your lives. This is all your destiny, Cinderheart.”
“Are you sure?” Cinderheart whispered.
Jayfeather nodded. “StarClan chose that you should be a warrior this time.”
“Who else knows?” Cinderheart asked.
“Only Leafpool,” Jayfeather told her. “No other cats need to know. You are not an echo of Cinderpelt, you are your own cat now. Your Clanmates know you and love you as Cinderheart, which is all the truth they need.”
Cinderheart sighed and gazed around at the nursery; it was still and silent now, as if it were drawing away to a great distance. Slowly she padded over to Cinderpelt’s body, and licked the dead medicine cat’s ears. “I will never forget who I was before,” she murmured. “Thank you for living my first life.”
Jayfeather moved to her side and touched his tail-tip to her shoulder. “Come,” he meowed. “It’s time to go home.”