The Last Hope

Chapter 15

Jayfeather wrinkled his nose as he swallowed a mouthful of herbs. The tansy tasted bitter and would sit like nettles in his belly till sunhigh, but he was determined not to catch any of the coughs and sneezes spreading through the Clan like fleas. He sniffed Briarlight. The tang of green leaves was fresh on her breath. “Have you eaten all of them?”

“Yes.” Her fur brushed the floor as she crossed the medicine den and Jayfeather heard her lapping from the pool. “Why do herbs have to taste so bitter?” she complained.

“It stops the rabbits and mice from eating them,” Jayfeather replied.

The days of rain since the Gathering—nearly a quarter moon ago—had brought with them the first real chill of leaf-fall. The Clan had been sheltering in their dens when they weren’t patrolling, and every sniffle had been passed from nest to nest. Nothing serious, but the sound of coughing and wheezing made Jayfeather edgy.

He had turned Millie away yesterday when she’d come to visit Briarlight. “No cat is allowed in the medicine den except me.”

Millie had tensed, her tail twitching with annoyance, but she hadn’t argued. Jayfeather sensed worry pricking beneath her pelt. Millie wanted to keep Briarlight safe from infection as much as he did. Although Briarlight’s forepaws were strong enough to haul herself onto the fallen beech now, Jayfeather couldn’t predict how well she would fight sickness. The daily ritual of swallowing herbs was the best way he could think of for keeping them both safe from infection.

He pawed through the leaves he’d lined up outside the store. The stock of tansy was lower than he’d hoped. He reached instead for mallow. It should work just as well on Purdy’s cough. He grabbed a wad of leaves between his jaws and headed for the entrance. “Stay in the den,” he ordered Briarlight through clenched teeth. “And no visitors.”

“What if Millie comes?” Briarlight asked hopefully.

“I’ve told her to stay away.” As Jayfeather nosed his way through the trailing brambles, drizzle washed his face. He flattened his ears against it and headed toward the honeysuckle bush. Murmuring sounded from the dens, muffled by leaves that had been pawed into the woven walls to keep out the wind. Jayfeather ducked into the elders’ den. The warm scents of Mousefur and Purdy filled his nose. Purdy was damp and the musky odor of fresh mouse hung in the air.

Jayfeather dropped the mallow beside Purdy’s nest. “Have you been hunting?”

“Mousefur was hungry,” Purdy rasped.

“Don’t use me as an excuse!” Mousefur snapped. “He wanted to hunt,” she told Jayfeather.

“We’ve been stuck inside for days,” Purdy complained. “I needed to get out for a while.”

Mousefur shifted in her nest. “Bored of my company?”

A purr rumbled in the old tom’s throat. “I thought you could do with a break from my stories.”

“Your stories are the only interesting thing that happens around here,” she croaked.

Jayfeather picked up a few mallow leaves and dropped them beside the cantankerous elder. “Perhaps you could spend more time with Lilykit and Seedkit. They’re getting to that restless age.”

“Brightheart’s kits are due soon,” he added. “You’ll be busy enough once they’re bouncing around the clearing looking for trouble.”

“I suppose.” Mousefur sniffed. “No doubt it’ll be up to me to teach them manners. Kits nowadays don’t know how to show any respect.”

Jayfeather’s whiskers twitched with amusement.

“Don’t you believe it,” Purdy whispered. “She was teaching Lilykit and Seedkit how to reach under the wall of the warriors’ den and catch stray tails yesterday.”

“I heard that!” Mousefur snapped.

Jayfeather left the two old cats bickering and pushed through the honeysuckle into the rain. The nursery rustled on the other side of the clearing. Fur scraped thorns and Jayfeather smelled the scent of Cinderheart. She was squeezing into the bramble bush.

Jayfeather crossed the camp and poked his head inside. “Is everything okay here?”

Brightheart shifted in her nest. “Ferncloud’s under the weather,” she puffed. Her belly was so round with kits that even sitting up to talk was an effort.

“She’s got a bellyache.” Cinderheart’s mew sounded beside Ferncloud’s nest. “I thought I’d check on her. You’ve got plenty to do.”

Jayfeather hesitated, uncertain as usual whether he should let Cinderheart act as medicine cat or tell her to go back to her warrior duties. But it was a decision she needed to make for herself. “If you need herbs, let me know,” he told her. “I’ll leave them outside the medicine den for you.”

Jayfeather withdrew, turning toward the apprentices’ den, where he could hear Molepaw coughing.

“Cough again, Molepaw.” Leafpool’s mew surprised Jayfeather. She was already inside the den. Molepaw forced out a cough and Leafpool sat up. “It’s not bubbling in his chest. Perhaps some honey will soothe his throat?” Jayfeather felt her gaze flit toward him.

There are more medicine cats than sick cats! Ruffled, Jayfeather pushed past Leafpool and listened to Molepaw’s chest. She was right. It sounded clear. “I’ll wrap some honey in a leaf and leave it outside my den.” He turned and stomped from the den.

“That was quick.” Briarlight greeted him as he pushed his way through the brambles and shook the rain from his pelt.

“Cinderheart and Leafpool are helping,” Jayfeather muttered. He padded to the store, hauled out a lump of honeycomb, and folded it in a laurel leaf. Then he picked a few chervil roots for Ferncloud’s bellyache. Grasping them between his jaws, he carried them to the den entrance, thrust his head out, and dropped them on the ground.

A familiar scent surprised him. RiverClan. As he slid out into the clearing, he tasted the air. Poppyfrost and Brackenfur were padding from the thorn tunnel. The two warriors smelled fresh from the forest. And there was a third cat behind them, walking into the clearing with hesitant steps. Mothwing?

Poppyfrost called to him. “Mothwing wants to speak with you.”

“It’s a RiverClan cat!” Squeaking excitedly, Lilykit dashed from behind the warriors’ den.

“Why’s she here?” Seedkit bounced after her sister.

Jayfeather waved them away with his tail and hurried to greet the RiverClan medicine cat. Nodding to Poppyfrost and Brackenfur, he steered Mothwing to the edge of the clearing.

Behind them, Spiderleg grumbled, “Why is she allowed to tramp across our territory when our medicine cat isn’t even allowed at the Gathering?”

Jayfeather ignored him. “What is it?”

“You have to come with me,” Mothwing told him.

Stones clattered as Firestar bounded down from his den. He skidded to a halt beside Mothwing. “Is anything wrong?”

“No,” Mothwing meowed evenly. “There’s just something I need to show Jayfeather.”

Firestar shifted his paws. “Jayfeather can’t leave ThunderClan territory.”

Mothwing’s pelt brushed Jayfeather’s. “He can for this.”

“What is it?” Firestar thrust his muzzle closer.

“Something only Jayfeather will understand.” Mothwing headed away. “Are you coming?” she called to Jayfeather.

“I’d better go with her,” Jayfeather meowed apologetically to Firestar. He ran after Mothwing as she vanished into the thorns. What was so important that she’d overrule a Clan leader?

Excitement sparked from Mothwing’s pelt as she headed onto the narrow beach and followed the edge of the lake, crossing the WindClan border without even pausing to taste the air. Jayfeather followed, his pads pricking with curiosity. He hardly noticed the rain battering his face. Had Mothwing discovered proof she was the fourth cat? Hope flared in his chest.

A shout from the hillside made him jump. Crowfeather. The WindClan warrior was pelting toward them, yowling.

“He’s leading a patrol,” Mothwing warned. She shoved Jayfeather behind her and waited as the WindClan cats swished through the heather.

“What are you doing here?”

Jayfeather flinched as Crowfeather slowed to a halt in front of them. He tasted the scents of Whitetail and Owlwhisker as they joined their Clanmate.

“He’s not allowed to cross Clan territory,” Crowfeather growled.

Mothwing didn’t move. “This is not your territory. We’re within a tail-length of the water.”

“It’s not a full moon!” Crowfeather snarled. “There’s no truce.”

Jayfeather dug his claws into the pebbles. He couldn’t believe this bad-tempered warrior was his father.

“We’re medicine cats,” Mothwing meowed calmly.

Crowfeather padded closer. “He’s not.”

Owlwhisker growled, “Let’s escort him back to his border.”

Whitetail shifted her paws. “He’s not doing any harm,” she meowed.

“He’s a murderer!” Owlwhisker hissed.

“Do you believe everything ShadowClan says?” Whitetail snapped at her Clanmate.

Stones rattled beneath Mothwing’s feet as she stepped closer to the WindClan patrol. “Let us pass,” she insisted.

Crowfeather’s tail lashed the air. “Jayfeather is trespassing.”

“Do you want to fight me?” Mothwing challenged. “Because you’ll have to if you lay a claw on him.” There was a growl in her mew. “Would StarClan approve of you harming a medicine cat?”

Jayfeather felt frustration flare from Crowfeather’s pelt. “You can pass.” He leaned closer to Jayfeather. “But this is the second time we’ve caught you trespassing on our territory.” His breath smelled of rabbit. “Make it the last.”

Mothwing’s tail flicked past Jayfeather’s nose. “He’ll have to travel back,” she pointed out. “Will I need to escort him? Does WindClan take pride in attacking blind cats?”

Jayfeather swallowed a hiss. He hated his blindness being used as an excuse, but this was no time to let pride get in the way.

“Very well.” Crowfeather backed away, his Clanmates retreating with him.

Shaking raindrops from her whiskers, Mothwing headed along the shore. Jayfeather trotted after her, impressed by her courage. “You should have been a warrior,” he meowed as the WindClan patrol faded from earshot.

“Maybe, but I am a medicine cat,” Mothwing replied in a tone that didn’t invite further questions. She led him across the RiverClan border and into the reed beds. The ground grew boggy underpaw and marsh grass brushed Jayfeather’s pelt as he followed the medicine cat along a twisting path.

“What’s that?” Jayfeather stiffened as the faint smell of smoke touched his nose.

“That’s what we’re going to see.” Mothwing kept going and Jayfeather hurried after her. “Duck,” she warned as the marsh grass thickened.

Dripping fronds trailed over Jayfeather’s nose, filling his muzzle with wet seeds that made him sneeze. Spluttering, he padded after Mothwing until suddenly she halted, and Jayfeather lost his footing in the mud as he tried to avoid crashing into her.

“Here,” Mothwing announced.

The smell of smoke was even stronger. Why had she led him to a fire? “What is it?” he asked.

“One reed is smoldering,” she told him. “It’s been smoldering for days.”

“In this rain?”

“The rest of the reed bed is soaked, but this one keeps burning,” Mothwing explained. “It doesn’t burn completely. The tip just glows with a tiny flame.”

Jayfeather leaned close, the smoke making his eyes sting. Pain stung his nose as it touched the smoldering reed. He stepped backward. “How long has it been like this?”

“Three sunrises,” Mothwing told him. “Ever since the Gathering.”

“It’s a sign!” Jayfeather turned to Mothwing. “You know it’s a sign, don’t you?”

She sat down. “For me, it’s a trick of the marshes,” she meowed. “But I knew you’d find an omen in it. That’s why I showed you.”

“Has Willowshine seen it?” Surely Mothwing would show it to her own Clanmate first?

“Willowshine isn’t looking for signs,” Mothwing told him. “Not like you.”

Jayfeather leaned closer to the tiny flame. As its heat touched his nose again a vision flared in his mind. Fire shot like a stalk in front of him, spearing up toward the sky, glowing orange like a… Jayfeather’s mind whirled… like a tail!

Flametail! StarClan was sending him a sign. Find Flametail!

He’d already been to the Moonpool in his search for the dead ShadowClan cat. But that time he hadn’t even made it to StarClan’s hunting grounds. Maybe StarClan was ready now.

“Thank you!” Jayfeather ran his tail gratefully over Mothwing’s flank. Was he right about her being the fourth cat? Maybe it’s Flametail. This sign changed everything! If he could talk to Flametail and persuade him to tell Littlecloud he drowned accidentally, the medicine cats could unite once more. And with the medicine cats working together, the Clans might join forces in time to face the Dark Forest.

“I have to get back.”

Mothwing stilled him with a paw. “Do you know what it means?”

“I think so.” It would take too long to tell her everything. Jayfeather wanted to get home, curl into his nest, and dream his way to StarClan’s hunting grounds. “It means I can find Flametail now.”

“But he’s dead, right?” Mothwing asked uneasily.

“Not to me!”

Jayfeather felt sorrow flood Mothwing. “I envy your faith,” she murmured. “You can always find hope, even in the darkest moments.”

Jayfeather tipped his head. “If only that were true.” A few sunrises ago he’d given up all trust in the prophecy and his power to fulfill his destiny. Now there seemed a tiny chink of light, but the darkness still loomed on every side.

“I’ll always be here if you need me,” Mothwing told him. “I may not share your faith, but I will always help you fight for what you believe in.”

“Thank you.” Jayfeather broke away, his paws itching for home.

“Do you want me to go with you?” Mothwing offered as he headed back along the trail.

“I’ll be okay!” Running, he followed his own scent along the narrow path until he burst out onto the shore.

Mothwing’s mew sounded from the reeds behind him. “I’ll keep watching the flame!” she yowled. “If it goes out, I’ll know you’ve found what you’re looking for!”