“Why are you even asking?” Thornclaw growled. “We go and deal with Sol, of course!”
Lionblaze remembered how certain Thornclaw had been that morning that a WindClan cat had murdered the gray warrior. It hadn’t taken much to change his mind. But at least no cat was suggesting that a ThunderClan cat was the killer anymore.
They’re glad to accuse Sol because he’s a rogue, he realized.
“We can’t be sure that Sol killed Ashfur,” Firestar meowed over the chorus of agreement that met Thornclaw’s words. “But we need to find out. We’ll send a patrol to the sun-drown-place, to get Sol and bring him back here. Then we can question him, and if he did kill Ashfur, he’ll be punished.”
Prickles ran up and down Lionblaze’s spine at the thought of confronting Sol. He didn’t know whether he wanted to go on the patrol or not. The rogue cat knew more than was natural—more about him than any other cat had ever seemed to know; maybe the answers to Firestar’s questions would be things no cat wanted to hear.
“Brambleclaw, you know the way to the sun-drown-place,” Firestar announced. “You’ll lead the patrol. Brackenfur, Hazeltail, and Birchfall can go with you.”
Lionblaze spotted Birchfall giving Whitewing a regretful look and leaning over to lick her ear. He guessed that Birchfall didn’t want to leave his mate when she was so close to giving birth to her kits.
“This could be dangerous,” Brambleclaw meowed to Firestar. “It might be better to have one or two more cats.”
“True.” The Clan leader glanced around. “Lionblaze and Hollyleaf, then. You can leave at dawn.”
Lionblaze glanced at his sister; Hollyleaf’s neck fur was standing on end and her green eyes glittered, but whether it was from fear or excitement, he couldn’t tell.
Hazeltail leaped to her paws and padded across to Hollyleaf. “Isn’t this great?” she mewed. “We’re really going to do something to help our Clan.”
Hollyleaf flicked her ears; Lionblaze couldn’t hear what she said in reply. The rest of the Clan were crowding around the chosen cats, congratulating them and offering advice. Every other cat seemed fired up to track down and destroy a murderer; he was the only one reluctant to avenge Ashfur’s death.
A few moments before, he had been relieved that suspicion had moved away from ThunderClan. But laying the blame at Sol’s paws was no better. He didn’t want to be reminded of the Clan cats’ instinctive mistrust of outsiders, of cats who weren’t Clanborn.
What if I’m a rogue, too? Will they all turn against me?
CHAPTER 3
Jayfeather sat still while the rest of the Clan swirled around him, buzzing with tension and excitement.
“I’m scared.” Jayfeather recognized Bumblekit’s voice close by. “What if Sol comes into the camp and gets us?”
Jayfeather heard the rasp of a tongue, and pictured Millie giving her son a comforting lick. “Sol is far away, little one,” she murmured.
“And there are big, strong warriors here to guard us,” Daisy added. “Do you think that your father would let any cat lay a claw on you?”
Bumblekit’s tone brightened. “No! Graystripe is the best!”
Jayfeather wished he could be reassured as easily as the kit. He knew bad times were coming. Fear, suspicion, and accusation crashed over him from all sides, as if his Clanmates were hurling rocks at him. He felt sick and dizzy, and the ground under his paws didn’t seem solid anymore.
Beside him, he heard Mousefur heaving herself to her paws with a gusty sigh. “If Ashfur’s killer meant to stir up trouble, mission accomplished. That cat has stuck a nose into a nest of bees by taking one of our warriors.”
And that cat will get stung. But Jayfeather didn’t want to think about what might happen to Ashfur’s murderer.
He picked out Lionblaze from the mingled scents of ThunderClan cats, but his brother didn’t slow down as he padded past.
“So you’re going to find Sol,” Jayfeather called to him.
Lionblaze halted. “Yes.”
Jayfeather was desperate to talk to his brother as they always did: easily, with nothing left unspoken. But the secret they had shared since the night of the storm made it impossible.
The awkward silence was broken by Hollyleaf padding up to them.
“You never told us you’d seen Sol,” Jayfeather meowed.
He could imagine his sister’s shrug. “It didn’t matter then.”
“Even so, you should have said something.” Lionblaze sounded upset. “You know Sol was supposed to help us with the prophecy.”
“What prophecy?” Hollyleaf snapped. “There isn’t a prophecy, as far as we’re concerned.”
“You didn’t know that when you saw Sol.”
Jayfeather winced as he listened to them bicker. There was no point to their argument, except that it stopped them from discussing the only thing that mattered: whether any of them believed that Sol had killed Ashfur.
I’m glad I’m not going, he told himself. I don’t want to listen to them all the way to the sun-drown-place and back!
Leafpool’s voice cut across his thoughts. “Jayfeather, there you are! I want you to come help me prepare herbs for the patrol.”
“Okay, coming.”
He rose to his paws and followed his mentor back to the medicine cats’ den, leaving Hollyleaf and Lionblaze to their squabbling. As soon as he brushed past the bramble screen, his mouth filled with the scent of the traveling herbs.
“I’ve laid everything out,” Leafpool told him. “We just have to make them into leaf wraps.”
It was a relief to have something to distract him, but the task was soon done, and he emerged into the clearing again with a leaf wrap for Brambleclaw clamped between his jaws. By now the excitement over the patrol was beginning to die down, and the cats were returning to their dens. Distinguishing Brambleclaw’s scent from the tang of the herbs he carried was difficult, but Jayfeather finally located him with Squirrelflight near the fresh-kill pile.
“I wish you were coming with us,” Brambleclaw was mewing to his mate as Jayfeather padded up. “We have so many good memories from that journey.”
Jayfeather caught the wistful note in his voice. It was as if the Clan deputy was looking back to a good time that was over, and regretting everything that had gone wrong since.
I wonder if he knows how wrong?
“I wish I was coming, too,” Squirrelflight replied, her voice subdued. “But I’m probably not fit enough for a long journey, after the wound I took in the battle.”
“There’s no need to worry about Sol, you know,” Brambleclaw reassured her. “I’ll keep you safe.”
“I know.” Squirrelflight sighed.
Jayfeather’s pelt prickled. Squirrelflight had never needed another cat to keep her safe! Once she would have clawed the ears off any cat who suggested it. But now she sounded…broken; waves of guilt and longing were coming from her, so strongly that Jayfeather almost felt sorry for her.
He brushed past her and set the wrap of herbs down at Brambleclaw’s paws. “Here,” he announced. “Traveling herbs. Eat them all, and get plenty of rest before tomorrow.”
“Thanks, Jayfeather.”
“Hey, Brambleclaw!” Graystripe’s voice came from across the clearing; Jayfeather heard his paw steps as he bounded up. “Firestar wants me to act as deputy while you’re away. Can I have a word with you about border patrols?”
“Sure.” Brambleclaw gulped the herbs down quickly. “What do you want to know?”
“Well, I think a few cats are still worried about WindClan….”
The voices of the two toms faded as they padded across the clearing. Jayfeather had turned back toward his den when Squirrelflight intercepted him.