He nudged her with his muzzle. “You’ll be okay. Leafpool won’t let you die.”
Hollypaw stared hopefully at Leafpool, but the medicine cat was too busy working on Squirrelflight’s wound to look up. Jaypaw slid in beside her and began holding cobwebs in place as Leafpool applied fresh padding.
Lionpaw returned and dropped a wad of dripping moss beside her. She snatched it up and began washing away the blood. “Fetch more!”
Squirrelflight didn’t flinch at the cold water. She was too deeply unconscious.
Hollypaw leaned in closer. “She’s going to be all right, isn’t she?”
Brambleclaw started to lick Squirrelflight’s cheek. “Sleep well, my lovely. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
“What’s happened?” Firestar was staring down at Squirrelflight, his eyes round with shock.
“Get back, all of you!” Leafpool suddenly snapped.
Blood roared in Hollypaw’s ears. She’s going to die! She stepped back, numbly, and brushed against Brambleclaw. Her father was trembling.
“Hollypaw!” Leafpool was staring directly at her. “Go to my den and fetch oak leaves.”
Oak leaves. Oak leaves. She tried to focus, terrified she’d forget, her mind in a whirl of panic.
In the medicine cat’s den, she reached into the gap in the rock and dragged out a pawful of leaves. Sifting through them, she separated out the oak leaves. At least they were easy to recognize. She picked them up in her jaws and hurried back to Leafpool.
“Do you want me to chew them up?” she offered, dropping them beside Leafpool.
“Jaypaw can do that.”
Hollypaw stepped out of the way. Lionpaw was staring down at his mother, his eyes lit with fury. He wants to know who did this.
She realized she was trembling like a kit. She closed her eyes and felt Sandstorm press against her.
“If anyone can save her, Leafpool will.”
Hollypaw leaned against Sandstorm, thankful for her warmth, while Leafpool and Jaypaw finished packing Squirrelflight’s wound.
Leafpool looked up. “I’ve done all I can,” she meowed. “It’s in the paws of StarClan now.” She picked up a wad of moss and held it to Squirrelflight’s lips, letting the water drip into her mouth.
After a few moments, Squirrelflight swallowed. Was that a good sign?
“She needs a warm nest,” Leafpool explained. “But I daren’t move her yet in case her wound opens up again.” She gazed at Hollypaw and Lionpaw. “Can I rely on you to build a nest around her?”
Hollypaw nodded. Of course they would!
“Fern, moss, feathers, whatever you can find,” Leafpool went on. “She needs to stay warm and still.” She got to her paws. “Jaypaw, watch her, and report to me if there’s any change. I have to see to the other wounded cats.” She looked at Brightheart, who was moving among the warriors with a bundle of herbs in her mouth. “Brightheart can’t manage all this alone.”
Firestar stepped forward and rested his muzzle on Leafpool’s head. “I’m proud of you.”
“I just hope I’ve done enough,” Leafpool murmured.
Firestar turned to his mate. “You must be exhausted. You should eat and rest.”
Sandstorm’s green eyes flashed. “She’s my kit! I’m not leaving her!”
Hollypaw felt a thorn-sharp stab in her heart. She’s my mother, too! She can’t die!
“Come on.” Hollypaw felt Lionpaw’s tail brush her flank.
“Let’s build her a nest.”
Foxpaw and Icepaw sat huddled a tail-length away. Had they been watching all the time?
“Can we help?” Foxpaw mewed.
“We need to find stuff for a nest,” Lionpaw told them.
“Anything soft and warm will do.”
As Foxpaw and Icepaw hurried away, Hollypaw noticed that Firestar and Brambleclaw were already below Highledge in deep conversation with Graystripe, Dustpelt, and Thornclaw. Their eyes were dark and their voices low. She pricked her ears, but she couldn’t make out what they were saying.
“Surely the battle is over?” she mewed. “What’s left to talk about?”
“The battle wasn’t won or lost,” Lionpaw pointed out. “The vanishing sun stopped it. Now that the sun’s back, WindClan might return to finish what they started.”
“They can’t!” Hollypaw bristled in shock. “StarClan has told us that we mustn’t fight!”
“If it was StarClan who hid the sun,” Lionpaw muttered.
Foxpaw came hurrying back with a large feather fluttering from his mouth. “Will this do?” He sneezed, and the feather shot into the air and drifted onto the ground.
“It’s a start,” Lionpaw mewed. “But I think we should look outside the camp. We’ll need a lot of bedding.”
Hollypaw glanced at Squirrelflight, lying on her side. Her flanks were hardly moving, and she looked small and cold.
Jaypaw was pressed close to her, his muzzle resting beside hers as though he were listening to her breathing.
“Come on,” Lionpaw urged. He led the way through the entrance and out into the forest.
Hollypaw gazed around in surprise. It’s so peaceful. As if nothing’s happened. The sun streamed through the branches, and birds sang in the trees. A few leaves drifted down. Leaf-fall drew closer by the day. Many of the ferns were browning into bracken, too brittle and hard for a nest.
She padded after Lionpaw, her exhaustion returning. Here and there a flattened clump of grass or a scrap of fur caught on bramble reminded her of the battle just fought, and the sting of her wounds began to prick her once more.
“These ones are soft.” Lionpaw stopped beside a green swath of ferns. He began to tug at a frond with his teeth, hauling it out of the ground.
Hollypaw grabbed another in her jaws and heaved it out of the clump. They worked steadily until they’d gathered a thick pile.
“Foxpaw!” Lionpaw called to their denmate.
“We’re coming!”
The undergrowth rustled, and Foxpaw and Icepaw appeared with great wads of moss hanging from their jaws.
“I think we’ve got enough,” Lionpaw decided. He hooked his paw over the pile of ferns and began to drag them back toward camp. Hollypaw followed, shoving the fronds together when the pile began to loosen and scatter. She was so tired that the edges of her vision blurred, and the forest seemed to sway about her.
“We would have won anyway,” Lionpaw puffed as they neared the barrier.
Really? Hollypaw wasn’t so sure. Swerving wearily to avoid a thin trail of blood, she felt as though all four Clans had lost something, though she wasn’t sure what.
Squirrelflight hadn’t moved when they reached her. Jaypaw was still curled beside her. He looked up as they neared, then stood and stretched. “Put the moss underneath her,” he instructed. “The ground’s very hard.”
Hollypaw pushed one bundle under Squirrelflight’s shoulders, another under her haunches, then gently patted a swath around her belly. Her mother’s fur was stiff with dried blood and smelled of herbs. Daisy had brought feathers from the nursery, and, while Lionpaw bunched ferns around Squirrelflight, Hollypaw laid the feathers over her to keep her warm.
When they’d finished, Jaypaw settled beside her again, resting his chin on her shoulder.
“Come and eat!” Brambleclaw called them over to the fresh-kill pile. Only a few morsels remained. There hadn’t been time for hunting today.
Lionpaw padded away, but Hollypaw stayed where she was.
She was too tired to eat, her belly hard with grief. She wasn’t going to leave her mother’s side again. She curled up beside Squirrelflight’s head and, breathing softly against her mother’s cool ear, closed her eyes.
Please don’t let this battle take her away from me.