“Stupid furball!” Brightheart’s voice was full of affection. “We scared off all the prey when the cats with greencough stayed there.”
“There’s been time for them to come back….” Their friendly bickering died away as they left the camp.
In spite of the feeble warmth of the sun, cold pierced Jayfeather through and through. He had never felt so alone. Rock had told him that the answers lay with his Clanmates. But what if I don’t have Clanmates?
“Do I have to do this?” Jayfeather protested as he emerged from the trees into the mossy clearing where the apprentices trained. “It’s a waste of time when we have to look for herbs.”
“The herbs won’t run away,” Leafpool responded tartly. “You know as well as I do that every cat gets basic fight training, even medicine cats.”
Jayfeather bit back another complaint. He hated learning to fight, because he knew he would never be any good at it. But there was no point in arguing with Leafpool; she always seemed to be in a bad mood these days.
“Right,” Leafpool began, leading the way into the center of the clearing. “Let’s start with some defensive moves. I’m going to attack you, and I want you to dodge to one side and get a blow in as I pass you.”
“Okay,” Jayfeather muttered. “The sooner we start, the—ow!”
While he was speaking, Leafpool leaped past him and landed a stinging blow on his ear.
“I wasn’t ready!” he yowled.
“You think a ShadowClan warrior is going to give you any warning? You have to be alert all the time, Jayfeather.”
On the last words, Leafpool sprang at him again. This time Jayfeather was more prepared; he jumped to one side and swiped at where he thought his mentor was, but his paw barely grazed her pelt.
“Better,” Leafpool admitted. “But not good enough. Let’s do it again.”
Jayfeather managed to land a blow or two, but his paws felt heavy and clumsy, and his senses weren’t as sharp as usual. Even though his mentor kept her blows light and her claws sheathed, he began to feel battered and exhausted. Finally, as he leaped aside, he lost his balance on a rough patch of ground and collapsed, paws flailing, without touching Leafpool at all.
“I’m over here, Jayfeather.” Leafpool’s voice came from the opposite side of the clearing. “Honestly, you’ve got no more fighting sense than a baby rabbit! I don’t think you’re trying at all.”
“I am!” Jayfeather spat.
“I know what your problem is.” His mentor’s voice was cold. “You expect Lionblaze and Hollyleaf to protect you, so you can’t be bothered to learn to defend yourself.”
“That’s not true!”
“I think it is. But Lionblaze and Hollyleaf won’t always be around. They’re not around now. You need to be able to look after yourself.”
Jayfeather didn’t reply. She doesn’t understand, he thought mutinously, as he scrambled up and tried to shake the moss out of his pelt. It’s not the same for her and Squirrelflight. If they were so close, she’d know Squirrelflight lied about us being her kits. Leafpool would never have let her do something like that. I wonder what she’d do if she knew what her sister was really like?
Jayfeather limped back to the medicine cats’ den through the damp scents of twilight. His legs ached and his head throbbed where he had grazed it colliding with a tree. He was too exhausted to look for any herbs to treat himself. “I hope Leafpool’s happy,” he grumbled as he curled up in his nest. “I’ll probably be too stiff to do anything tomorrow.”
He closed his eyes—and then opened them a heartbeat later to find himself in deep, lush forest, with starlight dancing on the leaves. His aches and pains had vanished and a warm, scent-laden breeze soothed his fur. Leaf-bare in the waking forest was only a distant memory.
A narrow path wound ahead of him through arching clumps of fern. Jayfeather began to follow it, ears pricked as he glanced around for any familiar cats. He could hear rustling in the undergrowth on either side and he caught glimpses of furry pelts, as if there were cats all around him, but none of them emerged to greet him.
“Who’s there?” he called out. “Yellowfang? Bluestar? Can any cat hear me?”
There was no reply. Becoming more frustrated with every paw step, Jayfeather followed the track until it reached a clearing covered with soft grass. A small pool was at the center, reflecting the stars. There were still no cats in sight.
“Where are you?” Jayfeather wailed, stepping out into the open. “Why won’t you talk to me?”
Fronds of bracken dipped and rustled at the opposite side of the clearing, and Spottedleaf appeared. Jayfeather’s rush of relief died when he saw how warily she was regarding him, her tail kinked high over her back.
“Spottedleaf…?” he began uncertainly.
“We can’t give you the answers you’re seeking,” the tortoiseshell she-cat interrupted. “Go back to your Clan. That is where the truth lies.”
“But—you must tell me more than that!” Jayfeather begged. “Did StarClan know all along that Squirrelflight and Brambleclaw weren’t our parents?”
Anger flared in Spottedleaf’s green eyes. “When will you realize that StarClan doesn’t know everything?” she snarled, lashing her tail. “Sometimes we have questions, too! Sometimes we’re just cats, like you!”
Without giving Jayfeather a chance to reply, she whipped around and vanished into the ferns.
Jayfeather sprang forward to pursue her, only to feel the ground give way beneath his paws. He jolted awake in his own den, opening his eyes onto darkness. He stretched his jaws wide, longing to wail like a kit abandoned by its mother.
They’ve all left me: Hollyleaf and Lionblaze, all the rest of my Clanmates, and now StarClan as well. I’m completely alone.
Even his belief in the prophecy, which had once seemed to promise so much, had been built on a lie.
I may as well be blind in my sleep, too. What am I going to do now?
CHAPTER 10
Hollyleaf shifted uneasily in the makeshift nest under the tree roots. Beside her, Lionblaze’s ears and tail were twitching, as if his sleep was disturbed by dark dreams. Hollyleaf wasn’t sure how he managed to sleep at all, so close to the Twolegplace. Even in the middle of the night, monsters growled, Twolegs shrieked, and dogs barked.
I’ve never been in such a noisy place, she thought, trying to find a comfortable spot among the dead leaves. How do the kittypets stand it?
Toward dawn she slipped into a fitful doze, only to be woken again as Lionblaze scrambled out of the nest. Yawning hugely, Hollyleaf followed him.
The orange glow in the sky above the Twolegplace had given way to the pale light of dawn; the roofs of the Twoleg dens were black outlines against the sky. A cold breeze was blowing, and every blade of grass was edged with frost. Brambleclaw and the other Clan cats stood gazing across the grass to the outlying dens of the Twolegplace.
“We need to go back into the Twolegplace,” Brambleclaw began, “and look for that cat we met last night. He has to explain what he meant.”
Hazeltail’s whiskers twitched nervously. “They obviously don’t like strangers around here.”
Birchfall touched her ear with his nose. “There are enough of us here to outnumber a few jumpy kittypets!”
Hollyleaf exchanged a glance with her brother. “I think we’re on Sol’s trail,” Lionblaze murmured, clawing at the grass. “I’ll bet you the fattest vole on the fresh-kill pile that he’s the reason that black-and-white cat was so scared of us.”