Firestar glanced at Dovepaw. “Are you okay?” he asked.
She nodded. “Lionblaze did most of the fighting,” she mewed. “I just helped guide it off our land.”
“It didn’t stray onto ShadowClan’s territory?” Firestar’s tail twitched.
“No,” Lionblaze told him. “We drove it up toward the mountains.” Why was Firestar always so concerned about the other Clans? They should deal with their own problems.
Firestar narrowed his eyes. “We’d better check.” He turned to Brambleclaw. “Fetch a patrol and go and make sure the fox has definitely gone.”
Brambleclaw bounded back to camp.
“Come on.” Graystripe nudged Lionblaze gently toward the hollow. “Let’s get you home.”
As they entered camp, Lionblaze saw his Clanmates gathered around the clearing.
“Well done, Lionblaze!” Ferncloud called.
Mousefur shook her graying head. “They’ll be telling this story in the elders’ den long after I’ve left it.”
“How did you do it?” Sorreltail stared at Lionblaze in undisguised admiration.
“Are you hurt badly?” Daisy was frowning.
Graystripe prodded Lionblaze toward the medicine den. “Enough questions. Let Jayfeather check him over first.”
Pushing through the brambles, Lionblaze was relieved to be in the peace of the medicine den. Cinderheart looked up sharply as he entered, a pile of herbs at her paws.
“Are you really okay?” she rasped. “I thought they might have to carry you back.” The words caught in her throat.
Jayfeather padded forward. “I’ve had Cinderheart mixing herbs ready to treat you.” He nodded to the gray she-cat. “Thanks for your help, but you can go now. I’ll need quiet to treat him properly.”
Cinderheart’s ears twitched. “I could help,” she offered.
“No,” Jayfeather told her firmly. “Thank you.” He fixed his sightless blue gaze on her until she dipped her head and padded toward the brambles.
Briarlight was straining in her nest, craning to see Lionblaze. “I thought you were dead by the way she was carrying on.”
Jayfeather tossed her a ball of moss. “Do your exercises,” he ordered.
Briarlight grunted but dutifully began to toss the moss ball from one paw to the other, stretching farther and farther each time to keep it in the air.
Jayfeather led Lionblaze to the back of the den. “Are you happy now that you’re everyone’s hero?” he asked sharply.
“It had to be done.” Lionblaze felt stung.
“Not by you alone.”
Lionblaze bristled. “The fox has gone,” he hissed. “No one’s hurt.”
“Well, you can be the one to explain how that happened.”
“Can’t you just clean me up and smear a bit of ointment on me to make it look convincing?”
Jayfeather sighed. “Okay.” He led Lionblaze toward the pool at the side of the den and began to wash him with moss soaked in the icy water.
Exhausted by the fight, Lionblaze let Jayfeather clean his fur. But the quarrel with Dovepaw lingered in his mind.
“Are you sure we shouldn’t stop Ivypaw from going to the Dark Forest?” he whispered, one eye on Briarlight, still busy juggling in her nest. “Dovepaw’s worried about her.”
“Ivypaw’s okay.” Jayfeather dipped a fresh wad of moss into the pool. “She hasn’t come to me with any of her injuries and she hasn’t shown any sign of disloyalty to ThunderClan. We might as well use her to keep an eye on Tigerstar.”
“Then we should speak to her,” Lionblaze reasoned.
“And tell her what? To start spying?” Jayfeather swabbed Lionblaze’s ears roughly. “Remember what happened when you asked Dovepaw to spy for us? Let’s wait, then talk to her. She’ll have more to tell us, and she won’t feel like we’re using her.”
Lionblaze grunted and closed his eyes, resting until Jayfeather had finished.
“These should convince our Clanmates that you at least got a scratch or two.” Jayfeather rubbed a final blob of chewed herbs between Lionblaze’s shoulder blades.
Briarlight’s moss ball came sailing across the den and landed at Lionblaze’s paws. He scooped it up and threw it back.
“Are you okay now?” Briarlight asked.
“Fresh as a newborn kit,” Lionblaze told her.
Jayfeather snorted and started bundling away the herbs he’d unpacked from his store.
“Thanks, Jay,” Lionblaze murmured.
Jayfeather didn’t look up. “Would there be any point in telling you to be a bit more careful next time?” he muttered. “We don’t know for sure how far your powers stretch.”
Lionblaze touched his nose to the top of Jayfeather’s head. “Okay.” He headed for the entrance. “See you later, Briarlight,” he called as he nosed his way through the brambles.
Cinderheart was waiting outside. She hurried toward him and started sniffing at the streaks of ointment. “I wasn’t sure you’d be out so soon…” Her mew trailed away, and she sniffed harder. “I can only smell the ointment,” she meowed slowly. “I don’t smell blood.”
Lionblaze edged away from her. “Jayfeather used some strong herbs,” he meowed. “They block most of the scent.”
Her eyes grew round. “You sound like nothing happened today.” Was that irritation in her mew? “You just took on a fox, single-pawed. You were drenched in blood.”
Lionblaze shrugged. “I’ve been trained to fight.”
“You looked like you were bleeding to death!” Anguish shone in her eyes. “I thought I was going to lose you.”
Lionblaze pressed his muzzle to her cheek. “You’ll never lose me,” he promised, his heart pricking with guilt.
“No!” Cinderheart flinched away from him. “I can’t do this. I can’t feel this way every time you go into battle.”
“Don’t say that!” Lionblaze’s heart lurched. “All warriors go into battle. But that doesn’t stop them from having mates.”
“Most warriors don’t hurl themselves right into the middle of every battle, or go out hunting foxes while everyone’s asleep!”
“But I’m okay! Look at me!”
“You can’t be!” Cinderheart stared at him, her eyes glazing. “All that blood!” Her tail trembled.
Lionblaze checked the clearing. Dustpelt was organizing hunting patrols. Daisy was washing a complaining Cherrykit while Molekit scrambled up her broad cream back. Berrynose and Hazeltail were busy weaving birch stems into the torn barrier.
No one was listening.
“I need to tell you something,” he whispered to Cinderheart. Wrapping his tail around her shoulders, he led her into the bramble patch beside the medicine den. Ducking between the tangled branches, he beckoned with his tail for her to follow. She crept in after him, eyes wide with curiosity.
“There’s something you need to understand.” Lionblaze stared straight at her. “Something that will reassure you that I won’t ever be hurt.”
She blinked at him.
“I can’t be wounded,” he blurted out.
She snorted. “You’ve certainly been lucky so far.”
“No!” Lionblaze shook his head. “There was a prophecy, many moons ago. It was given to Firestar. It was about cats who’d have more power than any others in all the Clans.”
Cinderheart tipped her head to one side, listening.
“I’m one of them. I’m one of those cats. I can’t get hurt. That’s my power. Not in battle, not with foxes, not by anything.” He stared at her, willing her to understand. To believe what he was saying.
Cinderheart sat back and stared at him. “There’s a prophecy?” she murmured. “About you?”
Lionblaze nodded. She understood!
“And you’ll never get hurt.” Cinderheart glanced at the ointment smears again.
“No.”