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Sighing, he wished that he had Dovepaw’s far-reaching senses, so that he could track her and Lionblaze and the rest of the patrol. They had been gone two days now, and Jayfeather had no idea whether they were still searching, or whether they had found the brown animals and the trapped water. The night before, he had tried to walk in Lionblaze’s dreams and had found himself padding up the dry bed of the stream, with unfamiliar trees arching their branches overhead. He had picked up his brother’s scent, and once he thought he spotted the tip of a golden tail whisking away around a boulder just ahead of him. But however fast he ran he couldn’t catch up, and Lionblaze didn’t respond when he called out.
He’s too far away, Jayfeather thought regretfully as he woke, his legs aching as if he really had tried to pursue his littermate. There’s no way you can catch him now.
His pelt itched with the longing to tell Lionblaze about his encounter with Breezepelt on the lake the day before. He was still shaken by the hatred that had emanated from the WindClan cat, and he seemed to hear the voices of the Ancient Clan, whispering warnings that he couldn’t quite make out.
I can’t believe that mangy flea-pelt is my half brother!
The bramble screen rustled as a cat brushed past it; Jayfeather recognized Dustpelt’s scent.
“I’ve come for more of those herbs,” Dustpelt announced, then added reluctantly, “My back feels much better today, so they must have done some good.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” Jayfeather replied. “Hang on, and I’ll get them.”
As he headed for the storage cleft at the back of the den, Dustpelt called after him, “I don’t want them if another cat needs them more.”
“No, it’s fine,” Jayfeather replied. He collected a few leaves of tansy and some of daisy from the store and headed back to the tabby warrior.
“Eat those,” he ordered, pushing the tansy toward his Clanmate.
While Dustpelt was licking up the herbs, Jayfeather chewed up the daisy leaves and made a poultice to spread on the base of the
ThunderClan warrior’s spine, where the pain was worst.
“Thanks,” Dustpelt meowed. As he was heading out of the den he paused, acute embarrassment flooding from his pelt. “Ferncloud said I
had to thank you from her, too. She said I was being really annoying, complaining about backache without doing anything about it.” “Surely not,” Jayfeather murmured, faintly amused, as the tabby warrior padded off toward the warriors’ den.
The sound of Dustpelt’s paw steps had hardly died away when another cat popped her head around the bramble screen. “Hi, Cinderheart,” Jayfeather mewed, breathing in her scent and picking up her anxiety along with it. “Is something wrong?” “I’m fine, but I’m worried about Poppyfrost,” the gray she-cat replied, slipping into the den.
“What’s the matter with her?” Alarm leaped in Jayfeather like a jumping fish. “Is it her kits?”
“Oh, no, she’s doing well physically,” Cinderheart told him. “Her belly is about the right size, and there’s no sign of fever or vomiting.”
“Good,” Jayfeather murmured. And you would know—Cinderpelt, he added privately to himself. Only he and Leafpool knew the strange truth
about Cinderheart, that she had lived in ThunderClan before as the medicine cat Cinderpelt, who had died saving Sorreltail from a badger at the moment Cinderheart was born. Cinderheart had no idea why she knew so much about herbs, or why memories of ThunderClan’s former home haunted her dreams. Leafpool and Jayfeather had agreed long ago not to tell her; she was a warrior in her own right, and if StarClan had chosen to give Cinderpelt a second chance, they would not interfere.
“It’s just that she’s so quiet and sad,” Cinderheart went on. “Is there anything you can do to help?”
Jayfeather was puzzled. What sort of help does she expect? “I don’t want to give Poppyfrost herbs,” he began, “not when she’s expecting kits, unless it’s really urgent.”
“Yes, but—”
“You told me she’s not ill,” Jayfeather went on, ignoring the she-cat’s protest. “If everything’s okay—”
“It’s not okay,” Cinderheart interrupted in her turn. “Nothing’s okay,” she added wretchedly. “Oh, Jayfeather, I miss Hollyleaf so much!” Jayfeather felt as though some cat had hurled a rock into his belly. He tried hard every day not to think about his sister, and every day he
failed. “So do I,” he replied quietly.
“Yes, you must.” Cinderheart’s tone was full of sympathy. “Losing a littermate is the worst thing ever. Maybe that’s why Poppyfrost is so sad,
because Honeyfern’s gone.” She let out a long sigh. “I’m sorry for disturbing you, Jayfeather.”
She turned and padded out of the den; Jayfeather pictured her head drooping and her tail trailing in the dust. When she had gone, he
slipped inside the storage cleft again and turned over his dwindling stock of herbs. Poppy seed...tansy...borage...No, there’s nothing here that will help a cat who’s just sad. And there was nothing any cat could say or do that would stop Poppyfrost from grieving for her dead sister.
Curling up in his nest of moss and fern, Jayfeather let himself drift into sleep and turned his paws in the direction of Poppyfrost’s dreams. To his surprise, he found himself on the steep, rocky path leading to the Moonpool. The moon shed its pale light over the boulders and moorland grass on either side, and it gleamed on the tortoiseshell fur of the young cat slipping quietly ahead of him.
“Poppyfrost!” Jayfeather called.
The young cat started, then slowly turned to face him; starlight glittered in her eyes.
“What are you doing here?” Jayfeather asked her.
Poppyfrost seemed unsurprised to see that he was the cat who was following her. “I’ve dreamed of this mountain path so many times since
Honeyfern died,” she explained. “I want to see her so much, and I can hear her calling to me from somewhere up there.” She nodded to the top of the ridge, silhouetted against the star-filled sky.
Jayfeather pricked his ears, straining in an effort to hear the young she-cat’s voice. But there was nothing except the faint whisper of the wind over the grass. “I can’t hear her,” he meowed.
“I can.” Poppyfrost was calm and clear-eyed as she spoke, though her voice betrayed her longing for her dead sister.
Jayfeather’s paws tingled. Poppyfrost had set her paws on a path that was walked only by medicine cats. “You should come back to the hollow,” he told her. He remembered how he had saved her life a long time ago, by guiding her back from StarClan when she was a tiny kit with greencough. She had come willingly enough then, not ready to leave behind the Clanmates she had only just begun to know. “This place isn’t for you.”
“No, I must go on!” Poppyfrost spun around and ran up the narrow track, faster and faster until she vanished into a swirl of mist. Her voice drifted faintly back to him. “I have to see Honeyfern!”
Jayfeather woke with a jolt, his paws scrabbling among churned-up moss. Warm air stirred against his face, telling him that the sun was already up. His pads ached as though he had really spent the night trekking into the mountains. Yawning, he dragged himself out of his nest and padded into the clearing. Sunrays were spilling through the trees above the camp, scorching the bare ground. Jayfeather tried to picture the hollow as it had been, green and cool, knowing that everything now would be parched to a brittle brown.
A worm of worry was gnawing at his belly. Trying to ignore it, he padded across to the nursery and stuck his head inside the entrance. He could hear the soft breathing of sleeping cats, and he scented Ferncloud, Daisy, and Poppyfrost huddled together in a mound of fur. Slightly reassured, he crept away without disturbing them.
But I’ll keep an eye on Poppyfrost, he decided.
“This is a dock leaf,” Jayfeather announced, snagging it in his claws and holding it up so that all the apprentices could see it.
“Like we don’t know,” Ivypaw muttered.
Jayfeather bit back a stinging rebuke. He knew that the young apprentice was still grumpy because Dovepaw had gone on the mission
without her, and he couldn’t entirely blame her. But Firestar had asked him to give all the apprentices some basic training in the use of herbs, and Ivypaw had to learn the same things as the others, whether she liked it or not.
“Dock leaves are good for rubbing on sore pads,” he went on, ignoring the young cat’s bad temper for now. “And you can find them pretty well anywhere, so they’re one of the most useful herbs.”
“So, like, if we went on a long journey, we should look out for dock?” Bumblepaw asked.
Oops, you shouldn’t have said that, Jayfeather thought, as Ivypaw let out an angry hiss at her denmate.
“That’s right,” he replied. “Or if you step on a sharp stone,” he added, trying to take the focus off traveling.
“Wouldn’t we need cobweb for that?” Briarpaw mewed.
“Only if the skin has broken,” Jayfeather told her. “And that’s true of all wounds, of course, especially serious ones where the cat is losing a
lot of blood. For smaller scratches and scrapes, we use marigold or horsetail to stop the bleeding. These are leaves of marigold,” he went on, holding one up. “I don’t have any horsetail right now; you should ask your mentors to look for it when you go out for training, and it would be great if you could bring some back.”
“And what if some cat eats bad food, or some nasty Twoleg stuff like our mother told us RiverClan cats did once?” Blossompaw chirped. “What do you give them then?”
“That’s a bit complicated for now,” Jayfeather mewed. “Today we’re learning about soreness and minor wounds. You’ll meet those almost every day, whereas cats are only poisoned once a season, if that.”
“But we should know what to do, right?” Bumblepaw argued.
“You’re not going to be medicine cats,” Jayfeather began. “More serious illnesses—”
To his relief he heard paw steps approaching and picked up Thornclaw’s scent as the tabby warrior poked his head around the bramble
screen.
“Are you done?” he meowed. “The other mentors and I want to go out for some hunting practice.”
“Yes! Hunting!” Blossompaw sprang to her paws. “I’ll catch the biggest rabbit in the forest!”
“Don’t make promises you might not be able to keep,” Thornclaw mewed drily. “Can I take them, Jayfeather?”
“You’re welcome to,” Jayfeather replied with feeling. “Remember that horsetail!” he called after the apprentices as they bundled out of the
den and dashed off across the clearing.
Once they had gone, Jayfeather padded out and headed for the elders’ den. When he pushed his way under the hazel boughs, he found
Mousefur and Purdy still sleeping, curled up companionably near the trunk of the bush. Longtail was awake, and he stretched as Jayfeather entered.
“Hi,” he meowed. “I was hoping you’d stop by.”
Anxiety pricked Jayfeather like a nettle when he heard how frail the elder sounded. He had always thought of Longtail as a young cat, living in the elders’ den only because of his blindness, but now he realized that he was growing old as well.
“What can I do for you?” he asked Longtail.
“I wondered if there’s any news about the cats who went upstream,” the blind warrior replied. “Has any cat discovered what is stopping the water?”
“We haven’t heard anything more,” Jayfeather told him. I’m certainly not going to give away Dovepaw’s secret! “You know as much as I do.” Longtail sighed. “It’s not enough. No cat will be happy until they’re home safe.”
“I know, but there’s nothing—”
“Jayfeather!” The loud whisper interrupted what he had been about to say; Jayfeather detected Ferncloud’s scent and turned to face her. “What’s the matter? Is some cat ill?”
“No, but we can’t find Poppyfrost. Have you seen her?”
Jayfeather didn’t bother reminding her that he couldn’t see anything. “She was asleep in the nursery earlier.”
“Well, she’s not there now.” Ferncloud sounded puzzled rather than worried.
“She hasn’t been here, either,” Longtail told her.
“I can’t find her anywhere!” Daisy pushed her way through the branches, nearly knocking Jayfeather onto Mousefur’s sleeping body. “She’s
not in the apprentices’ den, and she hasn’t gone to make dirt, and—”
“It’s getting too crowded in here.” Jayfeather gave the she-cat a gentle push back toward the clearing. “If we’re not careful, we’ll wake
Mousefur and Purdy, and then we’ll never hear the end of it.” As he herded Daisy and Ferncloud back into the clearing, he turned his head and
meowed to Longtail, “If I find out anything about the blocked stream, I’ll let you know, I promise.”
“Thanks, Jayfeather,” the blind elder meowed.
Outside in the clearing, Jayfeather faced the two queens. “Right, tell me from the beginning.”
“When I woke up, Poppyfrost wasn’t in the nursery,” Daisy mewed. “Ferncloud didn’t know where she’d gone. We weren’t worried at first, but
when she didn’t come back we started to look for her.”
“She’s not in the camp,” Ferncloud added.
Jayfeather wasn’t sure how worried he ought to be. Poppyfrost was at least a moon away from having her kits, so she wouldn’t do herself
any harm if she had just gone for a walk.
“We ought to tell some cat,” Daisy suggested.
“But who?” Ferncloud asked reasonably. “Firestar has taken a patrol to fetch water; Brackenfur and Sorreltail are out hunting with
Brambleclaw—”
“Cinderheart is training her apprentice,” Jayfeather added. And it won’t do any good to tell Berrynose, he thought, remembering how
brusquely the cream-colored warrior had treated his mate when they met by the lake. “I don’t think you ought to worry,” he went on. “Poppyfrost has probably gone to stretch her legs, or maybe to get a drink of water.”
“You’re probably right,” Ferncloud meowed, sounding relieved.
Waves of anxiety were still coming from Daisy’s pelt, but she didn’t protest when Ferncloud urged her gently back to the nursery. Jayfeather padded back to his den and headed for the storage cleft to sort out some herbs for Dustpelt. He hadn’t exactly been telling the
truth when he told the tabby warrior he had plenty of what he needed to ease the stiffness in his back. He hadn’t wanted to admit that the stocks of tansy were getting dangerously low, in case Dustpelt refused to take any more.
His head deep in the storage cleft, Jayfeather sensed rather than heard movement outside the den. As he backed out, he picked up Daisy’s scent. “Come in, Daisy,” he mewed, stifling a sigh. He wasn’t surprised that she had come to see him; he knew she was making herself frantic over the absent queen.
The she-cat brushed past the bramble screen and halted in front of Jayfeather, her claws working in the dry ground. “I’m so worried about Poppyfrost! She’s been really down lately.”
“Why do you think that is?” Jayfeather asked, remembering what Cinderheart had told him. “There’s nothing the matter with her kits. They’re fine inside her; I’ve heard them squirming around. And the warriors are making sure she gets plenty of water and fresh-kill.”
“It’s not that,” Daisy meowed with an impatient flick of her tail. “It’s Berrynose. Poppyfrost thinks he doesn’t love her.”
Jayfeather stifled a groan. I really don’t have time for this! “Well, Berrynose did love Honeyfern first.”
Daisy let out a shocked gasp. “I can’t believe you said that, Jayfeather! It shouldn’t matter who Berrynose loved before, now that he’s with Poppyfrost.”
Jayfeather shrugged. “Maybe it does.” It seems logical to me. Every cat knows that Berrynose wanted Honeyfern for his mate, and then she was killed by the snake.
“Poppyfrost is afraid that Berrynose doesn’t want her or the kits,” Daisy went on. “She thinks he wants Honeyfern back.” “Well, that’s not going to happen,” Jayfeather pointed out.
“I know that!” Daisy snapped. “But Poppyfrost isn’t being logical.”
You can say that again! Jayfeather sighed inwardly.
Daisy scraped the packed earth with her claws. “What if she’s decided to leave the Clan forever?”
“She wouldn’t do that,” Jayfeather reassured her. StarClan save me from fussing she-cats! “But I’ll have a word with Firestar when he gets back from his water patrol. Maybe some cats can go looking for her.” Though I’m not sure which cats we can spare, with so many needed for hunting and training and water patrols.
Gently he guided Daisy out of his den and across the clearing to the nursery. He could sense that she still wasn’t happy, but he didn’t see what more he could do.
Once she was back inside, Jayfeather headed for the rock wall to check the holes for any sign that the snake might have paid another visit. Sunhigh was just past, and the ground was scorching hot, burning his pads; the basking rock was far too hot for the elders to be sunning themselves there.
At least I don’t have to deal with Purdy this time!
As he pulled out the stones that were blocking the holes so that he could get a good sniff, Jayfeather pictured the day when Honeyfern died. Wincing, he let Berrynose’s horror flood over him as he watched the young she-cat writhing in agony from the poison. The warrior’s grief lingered at the foot of the cliff like a memory, soaking into the stones themselves.
It was enough to make Berrynose wish that he had been bitten by the snake instead of Honeyfern. If Poppyfrost knows that, she has good reason to run away.
Jayfeather paused halfway through rolling the last stone back into its hole. He suddenly had an awful suspicion about where Poppyfrost might be.
Leaving the hollow, he slipped under the forest trees, thankful for the cool shade and the air that felt so damp he could almost drink it. Poking out his parched tongue, he tried to lap it, but that only made him feel thirstier than ever.
Mouse-brain! What are you, a kit?
Giving himself a shake, Jayfeather headed through the trees up to the ridge that overlooked the lake. The air was hot and dry, sweeping across him in a scorching wind that carried the scents and sounds of cats up from the waterside. He knew what the lake looked like from his dreams; now he tried to picture it as much smaller, surrounded by dried mud and stones.
Even the underground tunnels will be dry by now.
Padding along the ridge, Jayfeather stopped every few paces to taste the air. Finally he picked up Poppyfrost’s scent on a clump of long grass. Yes! I was right. He followed the traces along the spine of the hill until he reached the WindClan border. Poppyfrost’s scent was just discernible beneath the WindClan scent markers.
Jayfeather’s heart sank as he confirmed what he had suspected all along. Poppyfrost was trying to retrace the path she had followed in her dreams, all the way to the Moonpool.
Mouse-brained cat!
Following his Clanmate’s scent, Jayfeather set off along the path to the Moonpool. But before he had taken many paw steps, he picked up
another scent, slightly fresher than Poppyfrost’s and overlying it, as if the cat it belonged to was following her. Breezepelt! What’s he doing here?
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