“No, but—”
“Brightheart’s right,” Jayfeather interrupted with a flick of his tail. “If we don’t help cats who are sick or injured, we might as well be loners and rogues.”
Icecloud let out a sigh. “I know. But I want to do what I can, even here. I’ll toss some moss balls for Briarlight.”
“Yes!” Briarlight gave a wriggle of excitement. “I bet I can catch anything you throw.”
“Okay, but don’t overdo it,” Brightheart warned the white warrior. “The more you rest, the sooner you’ll be back on full warrior duties.”
As Icecloud started clawing moss together, Jayfeather withdrew a couple of paw steps to give the young cats space, and sat beside the pool of water that trickled down from the rock wall, stretching out his neck to lap up a few cool drops.
“I’m glad Sandstorm’s getting better,” he remarked to Brightheart as she settled down beside him. “But she still can’t shake off that cough. I hope it’ll clear up when newleaf comes.”
Brightheart nodded. “Cherrykit’s back to her usual energetic self,” she mewed. “And the other cats are over the worst of the whitecough.”
“Right.” Jayfeather rose to his paws and arched his back to give himself a good stretch, then sat down again with his tail curled around his paws. “I’d far rather be treating injuries than the sickness we’ve had to deal with in the last few moons.”
“So would I.” Brightheart’s tone was heartfelt. “We don’t have to worry that Icecloud’s bad shoulder will spread to the rest of the Clan!”
Jayfeather let out a purr of amusement. “I can’t wait for newleaf,” he went on. “Warmer days and more prey will help the Clan get back to full strength. There’ll be more herbs, too, and the plants by the Twoleg nest will have a chance to grow.” His humor faded at the memory of how he had been forced to trade herbs with ShadowClan, and his purr gave way to a low growl deep in his throat.
“What’s the matter?” Brightheart asked.
“I was just thinking about how I had to give catnip to ShadowClan, to exchange for Ivypaw—Ivypool, I mean,” Jayfeather told her. “I was sorry that Littlecloud was ill, but not sorry enough that I wanted to deprive my own Clanmates.”
And I’m not happy with how the other medicine cats are behaving at the moment, he added to himself, unwilling to tell Brightheart about the way his counterparts in the other Clans were insisting on keeping themselves apart following warnings from their ancestors. They’re turning aside from the united path that medicine cats have followed for seasons beyond count. For a heartbeat he asked himself if he was just as guilty, for not wanting to give the herbs to Littlecloud. That’s different, he told himself firmly. The health of my Clan has to come first.
Squeals from nearby told Jayfeather that Icecloud and Briarlight were getting overexcited.
“I’ll see to them,” Brightheart mewed, touching his shoulder with the tip of her tail. “Hey, knock it off, you two! Icecloud, do you want to be stuck in here until greenleaf?”
“But we’re having fun!” Icecloud protested.
Jayfeather left Brightheart to deal with them and padded over to the mouth of the den, where he sat beside the bramble screen. Cats passing through the entrance had worn away the twigs that blocked the gap after the beech tree fell, and once again he could feel the breeze on his face.
It’s about time the twigs were cleared. I hated not knowing where to put my paws every time I had to go in and out.
He raised his head, whiskers quivering as he checked what was going on in the hollow.
Poppyfrost was rounding up her kits, shooing them back to their nests as the sun went down and the scant warmth of the day began to fade. Sandstorm emerged from the warriors’ den and climbed the rocks to join Firestar in his den. Near the mouth of the thorn tunnel, Lionblaze and Cinderheart were instructing their former apprentices about their night vigil.
The camp was peaceful, but Jayfeather’s paws itched to be moving. He knew exactly where he wanted to go: to check out the hole that Icecloud had fallen down. He could almost feel the earth beneath him teeming with lost cats, the ones who never made it out of the tunnels to become sharpclaws.
And Rock! Maybe Rock is there, too!
Jayfeather remembered how the ancient cat had come to him in the lake when he was trying to rescue Flametail, and told him that it wasn’t his time to die. Maybe that meant that Rock was prepared to speak to him again.
“Remember, you have to keep silent.” Lionblaze’s voice drifted across the camp to Jayfeather’s ears. “But nothing says you can’t help each other. If one of you looks sleepy, the other can prod her awake.”
“Off you go, then,” Cinderheart meowed.
Jayfeather heard the two new warriors pushing their way out through the thorn tunnel, while Cinderheart headed for the warriors’ den. As Lionblaze turned to follow her, Jayfeather rose to his paws and bounded across to intercept him.
“Take me to the hole,” he demanded.
“Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure.” Jayfeather lashed his tail. “Why do you think I asked, mouse-brain?”
“Okay, okay.” Lionblaze huffed out his breath. “Keep your fur on. I’ll go with you.”
“Then let’s get moving.”
As Jayfeather emerged into the forest behind his brother, he picked up curiosity from both the young she-cats who were on watch by the entrance to the hollow. He guessed that they would be asking questions if they hadn’t been on silent vigil.
“We’ve got…er…stuff to do,” Lionblaze mewed to the new warriors.
Jayfeather sniffed. Sounding awkward will only make them more curious! “Medicine cat stuff,” he snapped. “And I need a warrior with me.”
He could feel the she-cats’ gazes boring into his back as he padded after Lionblaze toward the old Twoleg nest. It was a relief when the undergrowth closed around them and he knew he was out of their sight. But as Jayfeather followed his brother down the old Thunderpath and veered off to climb the slope, he felt his paws growing heavier. Too many memories were thronging into his mind. He seemed to hear Hollyleaf again as she fled into the tunnel, the underground river roaring behind her.
We couldn’t stop her. She wouldn’t listen when we tried to warn her.
Jayfeather felt Lionblaze’s pelt brushing warmly against his side, jerking him out of the memory. “Stay close to me,” his brother murmured. “The ground is rough here, and there are brambles.”
Jayfeather doubted that Lionblaze was just trying to guide him across difficult terrain. He must have the same misgivings, the same memories. There was comfort for both of them in the touch of a littermate’s pelt. But Jayfeather stopped himself from spying on his brother’s memories. He didn’t want to relive that terrible moment over and over again.
Once was enough. And I don’t think I’ll ever be free of it.
“We’re passing the old entrance,” Lionblaze mewed after a few moments. “At least, I think this is the place. It’s covered over with brambles now; no cat will ever get into the tunnels that way again.”
For several fox-lengths the two cats went on climbing; Jayfeather felt the ground grow smoother beneath his paws, and he picked up the pace until he was almost running.
“Watch out!” Lionblaze yowled, pushing him aside just as Jayfeather’s whiskers touched the outermost sticks of the temporary barrier that had been piled up around the hole.
“Watch it yourself,” Jayfeather retorted, ruffling up his fur as he regained his balance. He stretched out one paw and felt the sticks shift. “I thought Dustpelt and Brackenfur were building a proper cover.”
“They’ve started,” Lionblaze meowed. “But they haven’t had time to get all the way around. We can still get through.”