“Only her leg!” Leafpool’s sharp mew took him by surprise.
“A warrior needs four good legs!”
Hollypaw pressed her muzzle to Jaypaw’s ear. “I’ve never seen her so upset,” she whispered.
Jaypaw shook his head. “Me neither.” He leaned against Hollypaw, letting her guide him through the undergrowth.
He wanted to focus his attention on Leafpool. He could feel panic, anger, and regret seething in the medicine cat’s mind. Why? She hadn’t pushed Cinderpaw out of the tree.
It was just an accident.
Why did Leafpool feel so responsible?
Cinderpaw’s fur swished against the sandy floor as the three warriors laid her gently down in the medicine den.
Sorreltail was in the den already, plucking at the ground with trembling paws. Grief and fear crackled from her pelt.
Poppypaw and Honeypaw fidgeted beside Hollypaw, breathing in frightened gulps.
“Thank you,” Leafpool mewed briskly to Brackenfur, Cloudtail, and Ashfur. “Leave us now.”
“But—” Brackenfur began to protest, but Sorreltail interrupted him softly.
“I’ll stay with her.”
The brambles rustled as the tom followed Ashfur and Cloudtail out.
Jaypaw bent down and licked Cinderpaw between her ears. She was unconscious again. “We’ll take care of you,” he promised. He felt Hollypaw’s gaze on his pelt.
“You’d better go too,” he advised her. “Firestar’s waiting.”
He could sense the ThunderClan leader’s heavy presence outside the den. “He’ll want to know what happened.”
“You will make her better?” Hollypaw mewed.
“We’ll try.”
As Hollypaw padded from the den, Leafpool murmured to Sorreltail, “I’ll do everything in my power to make her well.”
“I know you will.” Sorreltail’s voice cracked with grief, but Jaypaw could still hear affection in her mew. She had been Leafpool’s best friend since before he was born.
Sorreltail’s breath ruffled Cinderpaw’s pelt. “May StarClan protect you,” she whispered.
“She will be all right, won’t she?” Honeypaw’s frightened mew sounded beside Sorreltail.
“Don’t let her die!” Poppypaw sobbed.
“Come on,” Sorreltail encouraged them. “Let’s go and see Brackenfur. He’ll need company.” She guided her kits out of the medicine den, leaving Jaypaw alone with Leafpool.
With the other cats gone, Jaypaw could feel Leafpool’s anxiety buzzing like a swarm of bees. Suddenly, Cinderpaw stirred.
Leafpool swished her tail over the young cat’s flank. “Don’t be frightened,” she soothed. “You are safely back at camp. You fell from the Sky Oak and you’ve hurt your leg. But we’re going to fix it.” Desperate hope flared in her mind, but her voice remained calm. “What were you trying to do? Did you think you were a bird? Did you think you could fly?”
Her mew was as gentle as a mother’s. Jaypaw had never wondered if Leafpool felt sad she would never have kits of her own.
Cinderpaw let out a soft moan, then her breathing deepened. She was unconscious once more.
“Come on, Jaypaw,” Leafpool mewed, suddenly brisk.
“Let’s get this leg set. First, we need to take this binding off.”
Jaypaw began to help Leafpool to gnaw through the cobweb, releasing the rushes.
“Now, we need fresh rushes.” Leafpool darted to the back of the cave before Jaypaw could move and fetched three fresh rushes and another wad of cobweb. “If we place those two there, and hold another one here—”
Jaypaw reached out to help, but felt her paw already pressing the rush gently to Cinderpaw’s hind leg while she used her teeth to wrap cobwebs around it. “This should hold it tight.”
Jaypaw started to feel as if he wasn’t needed. Was Leafpool showing him what to do, or just talking herself through it?
“Shall I get some comfrey?” he offered.
“What?” Leafpool sounded distracted. “Yes, yes. Good idea.”
Jaypaw collected a mouthful of leaves and began chewing them into a pulp. He could still hear Leafpool fussing over the dressing. “A bit more cobweb here should hold it just right,” she murmured.
Cinderpaw twitched and let out a small whine.
“Perhaps we should leave her to rest,” he ventured.
“There’s nothing more we can do for her now.”
In an instant he felt Leafpool’s hot breath on his face.
“There’s everything we can do for her!” she hissed.
Alarmed, Jaypaw backed away, ears flattened.
Anger flamed from Leafpool’s pelt. “We can’t let Cinderpaw lose the use of her leg!”
“I—I—” he stammered.
Leafpool backed off and Jaypaw felt guilt flood her mind.
“I’m sorry, Jaypaw. I shouldn’t have snapped. You’ve been a great help.”
But you didn’t let me do anything. Jaypaw bit back the words, wary of antagonizing her again.
Leafpool turned away. “I must go and talk to Sorreltail and Brackenfur.” The brambles rustled as she pushed her way through them. Jaypaw stayed where he was. What had gotten into his mentor? He knew she cared deeply for her Clanmates, but he’d never seen her angry that a cat had been hurt before. It was as though healing Cinderpaw was the most important thing she’d ever have to do. Was it because Cinderpaw was her friend’s kit?
He checked Cinderpaw’s heart, pressing his ear to her chest. It was beating too rapidly, her breathing too quick. He settled down beside her and let his warmth spread into her body. Speeding up his breath to match hers, he closed his eyes.
He was standing at the top of a ravine. Thick woodland crowded every side, and far below, trees and bushes hid the ground from view. Is this part of StarClan’s territory? Fear clutched his heart. Was Cinderpaw dying? Had he been brought here to save her the way he’d done with Poppypaw?
A gray shape caught his eye below. Cinderpaw was leaping from boulder to boulder, down the ravine. She disappeared into the lush greenery.
Jaypaw started to panic. I mustn’t let her out of my sight! He scrambled over the edge of the ravine, following the path Cinderpaw had taken, fighting to keep his balance on the tumble of rocks because he was unaccustomed to using sight to guide him. At the bottom, a dense wall of gorse blocked his way. Just in time he spotted the tip of Cinderpaw’s tail disappear into it. He raced after her and found an opening in the gorse. He slithered through and found her standing in a sandy clearing at the bottom of the ravine. Bushes and ferns circled it protectively and at the far end, a jagged rock blocked the way out.
“Cinderpaw?” Cautiously, Jaypaw padded toward her, tasting the air. It didn’t smell like StarClan territory, but there were definitely some scents that he recognized. A tree stump near the edge of the clearing seemed to smell of Firestar and Graystripe. The bramble bush beside him carried the scents of Dustpelt and Thornclaw.
Cinderpaw gazed around, wide-eyed, her tail twitching with pleasure. “It’s just as I remembered! I haven’t been here for such a long time.”
What did she mean? This wasn’t ThunderClan territory.
How could Cinderpaw have been here? It didn’t even feel like anywhere near the lake. The wind sounded different as it rustled the leaves in the trees at the top of the ravine. The air tasted warmer, filled with a damp fustiness that Jaypaw had never scented before.
“Look here!” Cinderpaw was padding over to the huge rock. “This is Highrock.”
Then she turned and bounded over to the bramble bush that smelled of Thornclaw. “And this is the warriors’ den.
The elders’ den is over there.” She flicked her tail toward a fallen tree. “And over here”—she raced across the clearing to another bush—“is the apprentices’ den. I used to sleep here before…” Her mew trailed away, her eyes growing misty. She blinked. “Then I moved to Yellowfang’s den.”