“I’ll be better in no time.” Squirrelflight shifted until she sat up straight. She winced as pain shot through her hind leg.
“I’ll get you some poppy seeds.” Alderheart hurried to the herb store.
“Thanks.” Squirrelflight glanced around the den. Lionblaze had padded closer, and Bramblestar was smoothing the bracken inside her nest.
Jayfeather followed Alderheart to the store. “You might as well fetch her some comfrey while you’re there,” he mewed. “We can wrap her leg in it before we attach the splint.”
She purred. It was good to be back.
“I’m glad you woke up before her vigil.” Bramblestar helped Squirrelflight from the medicine den. Dusk was turning into night, and the camp was bathed in shadow. “We couldn’t have buried her without you.”
Leaning on him heavily, Squirrelflight tried not to betray the pain jabbing her wrenched leg. The splint helped, but she still couldn’t put weight on her hind paw, and the smell of the comfrey leaves bound around her leg was making her queasy.
She could see Leafpool now, lying in the middle of the clearing.
Millie looked up as Squirrelflight reached them. Their Clanmates were ringed around the body, murmuring softly to one another as they waited for the vigil to begin. “We will miss her,” Millie told Squirrelflight softly.
“Thank you.” Squirrelflight dipped her head. “She looks so peaceful.” She waved Bramblestar back with her tail and limped to Leafpool’s stiff, lifeless body, comforted by the thought that, in StarClan, Leafpool would be racing across meadows, warmed by endless sunshine.
She felt the gazes of her Clanmates flitting around her like moths, and wondered if they’d forgiven her for helping the Sisters. No one had called her a traitor, but that was what they must have thought when she’d emerged from Moonlight’s den. She looked at Bramblestar uncertainly, seeking reassurance. He gazed lovingly back, as though he could see only her. Graystripe caught her eye and nodded to her from the edge of the clearing. Thornclaw blinked at her fondly. They had forgiven her. Grateful, she sat down, carefully easing her wrenched leg to one side.
The moon shone in a soft blue evening sky as Bramblestar padded forward and silenced the murmuring of his Clanmates with a flick of his tail. “Leafpool was a loyal and dedicated medicine cat. She helped her Clanmates when they were sick and watched over them when they were well. She couldn’t mother her kits, and so she mothered all of you.” His gaze swept around the Clan, and Squirrelflight saw her Clanmates dipping their heads in agreement. “She wouldn’t sleep if she knew any cat was suffering, and would go without food or rest to care for her Clan. She fought for what she believed in and protected those who couldn’t protect themselves. ThunderClan will miss her. We were lucky to have her.”
Millie padded forward and touched her nose to Leafpool’s pelt. “Leafpool cared for Briarlight better than any cat. She made sure her life was long and comfortable despite her broken spine. She would sit up all night when Briarlight was in pain, talking to her and sharing stories to keep her spirits up. She thought up new exercises and games that would keep Briarlight healthy, and, at the end, Leafpool never left her side.” Emotion glistened in the old she-cat’s eyes. “I hope they will hunt together in StarClan.”
As she stepped back, Alderheart padded to Leafpool’s side. “I was lucky to have Leafpool as a mentor. She taught me so much about herbs and how to care for my Clanmates, not just their bodies but their spirits. I’ll miss her skill and wisdom, and I’ll miss her friendship more.” He looked expectantly at Jayfeather.
Jayfeather pricked his ears as the Clan fell silent.
“Jayfeather,” Alderheart prompted. “Do you want to speak?”
Jayfeather huffed. “Do you want me to say what a great medicine cat she was, or what a great mother she was?” There was bitterness in his mew.
It clawed at Squirrelflight’s heart, but she forced her pelt to stay smooth. “Say whatever you want, Jayfeather.”
Jayfeather flicked his tail. “She was a good medicine cat. She trained me well and I loved her for it.” He frowned. “Then I discovered she was my mother and that she’d lied to me since I was born. Hollyleaf died defending her lie even though Leafpool had abandoned us.”
On the other side of the clearing, Lionblaze bristled. He glared at Jayfeather. “What else could she do?”
“Tell the truth?”
“Then what?” The golden warrior’s eyes flashed. “Did you want her to give up being a medicine cat for you? Would you give up being a medicine cat for anyone?” He flattened his ears when Jayfeather didn’t answer. “No. I thought not.”
Jayfeather eyed him angrily. “You didn’t give me chance to finish. I was about to say that I forgave her eventually. Even though I could never love her as a mother after what she’d done, I respected her as a medicine cat and loved her as a Clanmate.” He narrowed his eyes. “Don’t pretend you loved her any more than I did.”
Lionblaze’s eyes glittered with grief. “I wish I’d loved her more.” His mew was husky. “She deserved to be loved. She was loyal and good and kind.”
Squirrelflight’s eyes pricked. “She was loved.” She got to her paws, wincing at the pain. “I loved her. Her final act was to save a litter of kits. They were the kits of an outsider—a stranger to our land, and to our code. But Leafpool saw every life as important, and she died saving something she cherished most of all—kits.” She glanced at Jayfeather and Lionblaze. “She told me to tell you that she always loved you as your mother and she always will. She only lied to protect you.” Lionblaze looked at his paws. Jayfeather gazed blindly into the gathering darkness as Squirrelflight went on. “She said that she’d never forgive herself for the pain she caused you, but I hope she finds peace in StarClan, because she deserves to be happy.” Night hid her Clanmates in shadow, but she could see their eyes glistening in the moonlight. “Leafpool was the best littermate I could have had. I will miss her so much, but I know that she will always be with me, watching from StarClan.”
As she finished, a breeze sent leaves showering into the clearing. They drifted down, as pale in the moonlight as Leafpool’s amber eyes. Is she sending me a message? Squirrelflight looked at the stars, her heart pricking with hope. Even though Leafpool was in StarClan, Squirrelflight knew she wasn’t very far away.
CHAPTER 29
Squirrelflight nosed her way into the nursery. It had been a long night, and she was stiff from sitting vigil beside Leafpool’s body. Bramblestar had sat with her, pressing close to protect her from the chill. It had felt good to spend the time with Leafpool, to breathe in her scent for the last time and honor her memory with their Clanmates. Bramblestar was helping to bury her now. Squirrelflight had chosen the spot, in a quiet grove where Leafpool had loved to gather thyme.
Daisy sprawled near the nursery entrance, letting Flamekit clamber over her. Quivering with excitement, Finchkit pressed her belly to the ground and, like a warrior stalking prey, watched Daisy’s tail flicking back and forth.
“Squirrelflight!” Flamekit’s happy mew jerked her from her thoughts. The black tom-kit raced toward her and rubbed around her legs, purring.
Finchkit looked up, pricking her ears. “Are you better now?” she asked.
“I am,” Squirrelflight told her.
Flamekit sniffed at the splint on her hind leg. “Why have you got this?”
“It’s to support my leg while it heals.”
“Does it hurt?” Finchkit sniffed the splint too.
“It’s sore, but it’ll improve in a few days.” Squirrelflight glanced across the den. Sparkpelt lay in her nest, her chin hanging listlessly over the edge.