“So that you can protect the Clan.”
“Yes.” Lionblaze leaned forward, relieved that she’d taken it all so calmly. “You never need to worry about me again.” He ran his cheek along hers, his heart warming at her scent. “It’s all going to be okay.”
“No!” She jerked away and backed out of the brambles, her eyes glittering with grief. “We can’t do this. I can’t be your mate. Not if StarClan has given you this power.”
Lionblaze’s blood froze. “Wh-what do you mean?”
“You have a much greater destiny than me!” Cinderheart whispered. “We can’t do this anymore!” With a wail she turned and fled toward the warriors’ den.
Chapter 14
Jayfeather began to scoop up the herbs littering the den floor. What a waste. He’d used the commonest leaves to patch Lionblaze’s “wounds,” but even nettle stem and tansy would be hard to replace now that the snows had come. Last night, Brightheart and Leafpool had returned with only a few pawfuls of mallow and thyme. It had taken them half a day to find that much.
“Millie!”
Briarlight’s mew jerked Jayfeather back into the present. His mouth watered at the sweet scent of mouse.
“I brought you some fresh-kill.” Millie dropped it beside Briarlight’s nest. “I thought you might be hungry. You ate hardly anything this morning.”
“I told you,” Briarlight muttered. “I’m not hungry.”
Millie began to tear the mouse apart. “Try a morsel.”
“That’s not going to make me hungry,” Briarlight snapped.
“Just eat a little of it,” Millie coaxed.
“I’m not hungry!”
Jayfeather padded to Briarlight’s nest. He touched his nose to her muzzle. It was damp but not warm. She wasn’t running a fever. But her mind was a whirl of worry and guilt.
“Has her chest infection come back?” Millie asked anxiously.
“Leave the fresh-kill with me,” Jayfeather suggested. “I’ll check her over and see if I can persuade her to eat something.”
Millie stayed beside her kit’s nest. “I want to know if she’s okay.”
“Go back to the hollow.” Jayfeather suspected that it would be easier to find out what was troubling the young warrior without Millie hovering. “It’ll give me more room to examine her.”
Millie hesitated.
“I’ll tell you as soon as I know anything,” he promised. He felt reluctance weighing Millie’s paws as she padded out of the den.
“I don’t know why she has to fuss over me so much,” Briarlight huffed as soon as she was gone.
“Don’t you?” Jayfeather didn’t wait for a reply. He leaned forward and sniffed her breath. It was clean and fresh. No sign of infection. He laid a paw on her chest. “Breathe in as deeply as you can.” Her breath was deep and clear.
“So, no appetite, eh?” He sensed stubbornness stiffening her pelt and felt the fierce ache of hunger in her belly.
“No.”
“Liar.”
“What?”
Jayfeather felt surprise flash from the young cat. “You might be able to fool Millie, but not me. Do you really think it’s fair to make her worry just because you’ve gotten it into your head that you don’t deserve food because you can’t hunt?”
“What are you talking about?” Embarrassment glowed hotly from the young warrior.
Jayfeather softened his tone. “I know you think you’re being fair.” He settled down beside her nest. “But it’s not that simple.”
Briarlight turned her head away. “I don’t hunt. I shouldn’t eat.”
“Daisy doesn’t hunt,” Jayfeather pointed out. “Should she starve?”
“She looks after the kits!” Briarlight grunted.
“What about when you keep them amused by playing moss-ball with them while Daisy rests?”
“Any cat could do that.”
“What about Purdy and Mousefur, then?” Jayfeather pressed. “They don’t hunt.”
“They’re old; they’ve hunted enough for the Clan.”
“But they can’t hunt anymore. Why don’t we let them die now?”
Shock pulsed from the young cat. “We couldn’t! They’re part of the Clan. It’s our duty to look after them.” Her nest rustled beneath her paws. “Besides, the Clan wouldn’t be the same without them.”
Jayfeather left a small silence for her to hear her own words. Then he mewed, “Do you think the Clan would be the same without you?”
She didn’t answer.
“The Clan brings you fresh-kill because they think you deserve it, and because looking after their Clanmates is what makes them warriors. They are proud to help you.”
“I just wish there was something I could do to help them back.” Emotion choked Briarlight’s mew.
“Okay.” Jayfeather sat up. “Come on. Out of that nest.”
Fur brushed twigs as Briarlight hauled herself out.
“If helping look after Molekit and Cherrykit isn’t enough work for you, there’s plenty you can do here.” He swept his tail around the medicine den. “I like to keep balls of moss piled beside the pool so that I can soak them if I need water for washing wounds or quenching the thirst of a sick cat. Brightheart usually brings me fresh moss every few days. From now on it’s your job to check it for splinters or thorns, then divide it into balls and stack it by the pool.”
“Okay.” Jayfeather felt Briarlight’s spirits lifting. “What else?”
“Keep the den floor clean,” he ordered. “We have just about every cat in the Clan coming and going at the moment. My herbs seem to get everywhere. Sweep out any dirt and paw up all stray leaves and pile them next to my store.”
“No problem.”
“And I need to go through my supplies and see what’s running low,” Jayfeather went on. “You can help me.” He padded to the crack in the rock at the back of the den. Sliding into the chilly cleft, he called over his shoulder, “I’ll pass them out; you stack them by the wall. We can go through them together.”
He began to shove out bundle after bundle of herbs. Many were dry and crumbled in his paws. Reaching to the back, he felt something downy beneath his paw. Hooking it with his claw, he pulled out a scrap of fur. He sniffed it, his heart quickening. Hollyleaf! How had her fur gotten here? Had she returned from the dead?
Don’t be mouse-brained!
She’d been Leafpool’s apprentice once. It must have lodged in a corner then and been there ever since. The warm familiar scent of his sister flooded his heart. For a moment he was back in the nursery, squirming and fighting with Lionkit and Hollykit while Ferncloud sniffed disapprovingly.
Catch this, Jaykit!
Hollykit’s a slow slug!
“Jayfeather?” A voice summoned him from his thoughts.
“That’s all there is, Briarlight.” Jayfeather tucked Hollyleaf’s fur into a crack in the rock.
“Jayfeather!” the voice called again.
“Start piling the matching leaves together, Briarlight. I’ll be out in a moment.”
“Jayfeather.” This time warm breath stirred his ear fur.
He jumped around, his pelt scraping the rock. No one was there. Yet the scent of another cat hung heavy in the air.
Yellowfang!
He squeezed out of the cleft. Briarlight was beside the far wall, sifting through the herbs. “I’m matching the leaves,” she called.
“Good, good.” Jayfeather circled warily, tasting the air. The frosty chill was thick with her scent. Why had Yellowfang come here? It was half-moon. He’d be sharing dreams with her at the Moonpool tonight. Why come now?
“Come with me.” Her rasping mew sounded behind him. “Don’t worry; no one can hear me except you.”