Perhaps StarClan has disowned me, now that I’m no longer part of a Clan.
Hollyleaf realized she was shaking so much, she was in danger of slipping over the edge. She backed away a little, just as the branches of the fallen tree quivered and two cats stepped gingerly into the cold air. Their breath formed clouds around the muzzles.
“I can go to the dirtplace on my own,” Mousefur was grumbling. The air was so still that her voice reached Hollyleaf all the way on top of the cliff.
“I know you can,” Purdy rasped. “But there’s no harm in having company, is there?”
“I don’t seem to have any choice,” Mousefur muttered as the old brown tom ushered her across the clearing and into the brambles that filled the entrance to the hollow.
Hollyleaf leaned forward, feeling a thrill of delight. My Clanmates!
“Briarlight!” called a voice from the medicine den. “I can bring you something to eat if you’re hungry. There’s no need to fetch it yourself.” It was Jayfeather, sounding as if he’d just woken up.
“I still have two legs that work,” came the reply, as a dark brown she-cat emerged from beneath the tangled roots.
Briarkit? Hollyleaf stared in disbelief as the young cat dragged herself over the ground with her front paws, while her hind legs trailed uselessly behind her. Millie burst out of the middle of the fallen branches.
“What are you doing? You only went this far yesterday! You should be resting!” she scolded.
Briarlight—Jayfeather had used her warrior name, although she clearly wasn’t going on any patrols—swerved to avoid her mother. “I’m fine,” she hissed between clenched teeth. “You can’t do everything for me!”
Millie bent down and licked her daughter’s ears. “I wish I could,” she murmured.
How had Briarlight been so badly hurt? Had it been when the tree fell? I should have been here! Hollyleaf sank her claws into the crumbling soil at the edge of the cliff. A few tiny stones were dislodged and clattered down into the clearing. Hollyleaf froze.
A familiar dark tabby pelt emerged from the branches. Brambleclaw looked up toward Hollyleaf’s hiding place, his eyes narrowing. She shrank back and held her breath. Then she heard him call, “Lionblaze? Cinderheart? Take the border patrol around the top of the hollow, will you? Dovepaw and Ivypaw can go with you.”
There was the sound of cats gathering below. Hollyleaf risked one more glance over the edge. Her heart nearly broke when she saw her brother Lionblaze circling around Cinderheart, the tip of his tail tracing her soft gray fur. Dovepaw and Ivypaw—they had been tiny kits when Hollyleaf left, and now they were strong, confident-looking apprentices!—bounced around them looking eager to be out on patrol.
“Did Brambleclaw hear a fox?” Ivypaw asked excitedly.
Dovepaw had tipped her head to one side and was looking thoughtful. “I don’t think so,” she mewed.
Lionblaze started to lead them toward the barrier of thorns. Hollyleaf knew she had to leave. She just hoped her pelt still held enough ThunderClan scent that she couldn’t be tracked back to the tunnel. Luckily the ferns were soaking wet from frost-melt, which made them less likely to hold traces of her. She pushed her way through, wincing as the cold water pierced through to her skin, then raced for the tunnel. She could hear Lionblaze bringing the patrol up the side of the hollow. Ivypaw was running ahead, reporting back on every bush and bramble that she sniffed.
“Nothing here! No fox came this way!”
Hollyleaf paused for a moment, suddenly wild with hope that they would find her and take her back to the Clan. Surely she was missed in some small way? Then she thought of everything that had happened, the truth that Leafpool, Jayfeather, and Lionblaze had discovered, and she knew the Clan was better off without her. With a tiny sigh, she ducked into the narrow hole and let the shadows engulf her.
“And then I saw Briarkit—well, she’s Briarlight now—and she’s lost the use of her hind legs! She was dragging herself on her belly across the clearing. Maybe the tree fell on her. I should have been there to help!” Hollyleaf stopped to take a breath, aware that she hadn’t stopped talking since she returned.
From his seat beside the river, Fallen Leaves looked at her. It was a gloomy day and there was barely any light filtering into the cave, but Hollyleaf could see his eyes shining faintly. “You couldn’t have stopped the tree from falling,” he pointed out. “Anyway, you chose to leave, remember?”
Hollyleaf scraped her paw over the stone. “It didn’t feel like I had a choice at the time,” she murmured. “I… I haven’t told you everything about what happened. It wasn’t just that I found out about Squirrelflight and Leafpool lying to me. Another cat found out as well, a cat called Ashfur. He threatened to tell all the Clans the truth so I… so I killed him.”
There was a long silence. Hollyleaf risked glancing up at Fallen Leaves. He was staring into the river. “Did the Clan send you away when they found out?” Fallen Leaves asked quietly.
“No! They never knew! Only Leafpool found out, and then I told Jayfeather and Lionblaze. I wanted them to know why I had to leave.”
“But you could go back,” Fallen Leaves meowed, suddenly lifting his gaze. “Your brothers and Leafpool love you too much to tell the truth about Ashfur. Your secret will still be safe.”
“You don’t know that!” Hollyleaf wailed.
“I think I do,” Fallen Leaves argued. “Everything you’ve told me proves how important you were to your kin.”
“You don’t understand,” Hollyleaf mewed wretchedly. “Too much has happened. The Clan doesn’t need me anymore.”
Fallen Leaves turned away. “Your Clan will always need you,” he whispered as he padded into the shadows.
Hollyleaf managed to wait for three more quarter moons before going back to her spying place above the hollow. Snow had fallen again, turned to silver sparkles by the harsh frost. Hollyleaf crouched among the brittle grass, shivering, and watched the Clan slowly wake up below her. Brambleclaw sent a patrol of sleepy warriors to check the WindClan border. Hollyleaf was startled by how thin her Clanmates looked. She searched the clearing for any sign of a fresh-kill pile, but there were only a few scraps of fur and feathers beside the tree trunk. Prey must be scarce after such a long spell of harsh weather.
There was a scrabble of movement at the far end of the fallen tree, where the prickly nursery walls were just visible. Poppyfrost’s voice rose up, high with frustration.
“Cherrykit! You’re not going outside with that cough! Molekit, bring your sister back at once!”
Two tiny, fluffed-up shapes burst out of the brambles and scooted across the clearing. The ginger she-cat in front stopped as her little body was racked with coughs, and her cream-and-brown littermate skidded to a halt beside her. “You can’t come out to play today,” he mewed. “You know what Poppyfrost said.”
A tortoiseshell she-cat slid through the wall of the nursery and bent over the ginger kit. “Come on, little one,” Poppyfrost murmured. “Back to the nest with you.”
“Can’t Jayfeather give me some medicine?” pleaded Cherrykit, gazing up at her mother with huge amber eyes.
“He said he’s run out of yarrow,” Poppyfrost explained. There was a tense note of worry in her voice, though Hollyleaf could tell she was trying to hide it from the kits. “I’m sure he’ll find some today, and then you’ll feel much better.”