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“It’s kind of you to ask me,” Sol mewed to the two young cats. “But I have other duties right now. I’ll want to hear a full report of what you’ve learned when I get back.”

Jayfeather heard a suppressed hiss from Cloudtail, and sensed a wave of annoyance rolling off him. He could understand what the white warrior felt. Sol is talking as if he’s our Clan leader!

“Jayfeather?”

Focused on what was happening outside the den, Jayfeather hadn’t noticed Brightheart dragging herself up to him.

“Jayfeather, can I go and speak to Sol?” she asked.

The eagerness in her tone irritated Jayfeather. “He’s not going to mend your back, if that’s what you’re thinking,” he snapped.

“I wasn’t hoping for that,” Briarlight huffed. “I’m curious about him, that’s all.”

“Well, don’t be,” Jayfeather retorted. “He’s nothing special.”

“He saved the apprentices from the fox,” Briarlight reminded him.

Jayfeather snorted. “Maybe.”

I can’t believe Lionblaze and I got it so wrong, he thought. Sol was the last cat we were expecting to turn up.

The apprentices and their mentors moved away. Sol loitered for a few more moments outside the den, then he, too, retreated in the direction of the entrance. Jayfeather hauled himself out of his nest and began to groom the scraps of moss and bracken from his fur.

“Jayfeather!” Daisy’s voice came from the other side of the bramble screen. “Can you come and have a look at Sorreltail?”

Leaving his grooming unfinished, Jayfeather brushed past the screen and out into the camp. Daisy was waiting for him a tail-length away.

“Is something wrong?” he asked.

“I’m not sure,” Daisy admitted, falling in beside him as he padded toward the warriors’ den. “You’re the medicine cat. But I’ve seen a lot of cats near to giving birth, and I’m not sure I like the look of Sorreltail.”

Jayfeather replied with a grunt. As he slid between the outer branches of the warriors’ den, his nose twitched at the musty scent of dried moss and fern. Most of the cats were already out on patrol; he located Sorreltail lying in a nest near the edge of the den, and picked his way through the bedding to her side.

“Hi, Jayfeather,” the tortoiseshell warrior meowed. “You didn’t need to come. I’m fine.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” Jayfeather muttered.

Sorreltail’s voice sounded tired, and as Jayfeather sniffed at her he picked up her feelings of anxiety and exhaustion. “You’re trying to do too much,” he told her. “You’re less than half a moon from giving birth, and keeping up with your warrior duties is wearing you out.”

“But last time—” Sorreltail began.

“Like it or not, you’re older than the last time you had kits,” Jayfeather pointed out. “You need to slow down to give yourself a chance to stay in good health. Birth is a very difficult time.”

Sorreltail sighed. “I know.”

As both cats fell silent, Jayfeather felt her flank shudder beneath his forepaw, and he was plunged into a terrible whirlpool of memory. He felt Sorreltail’s agony as she gave birth; he shared her horror as the badger forced its way into the nursery. He saw Cinderpelt leap bravely to protect Sorreltail and heard her shriek cut off abruptly as the huge creature clamped its jaws on her neck and shook her. In the same heartbeat he heard the thin wail of a tiny gray kit, born as the medicine cat gave up her life.

Jayfeather shivered. That was when Cinderpelt became Cinderheart. And now Yellowfang says that I need to bring her back, for the sake of the Clan.

He started, jerked out of the memory, as he realized that Sorreltail was speaking again, her voice low and weary.

“I know you’re right,” she mewed. “These kits need to have the best possible start. And if that means sitting around for this last half-moon… well, so be it!”

“Thank you, Sorreltail,” Jayfeather replied. “You’ve made the right decision.” And made my job a lot easier, he added to himself.

“Come on, then, Sorreltail,” Daisy mewed, bustling forward and nudging the tortoiseshell warrior to her paws. “Ferncloud and I have made you a really comfortable nest in the nursery.”

Jayfeather’s anxieties faded as he edged his way out of the warriors’ den. It’s obvious Sorreltail is going to be thoroughly mothered before these kits arrive!

Back in the clearing, Jayfeather listened for Cinderheart’s pawsteps, wondering whether this was the right time to speak to her. What in the name of StarClan am I going to say?

His ears twitched as he heard paw steps padding toward him, but the scent that he picked up was Birchfall’s. “Are you busy right now?” he asked.

“No,” the tabby tom replied. “Do you want something?”

“Yes—Cinderheart,” Jayfeather replied. “If you see her, would you tell her I want a word with her?”

“Sure.” Birchfall padded off.

Jayfeather headed for the warriors’ den, but when he paused to taste the air there was no trace of Cinderheart among the mingled scents. He stood lashing his tail with frustration. She must be out on patrol.

Then a voice spoke close to his ear. “Are you looking for Cinderheart?”

Jayfeather stiffened as Leafpool’s scent washed over him. How does she know that?

“Yes,” he replied warily. “Have you seen her?”

“Yes, but I need to speak to you first.”

Jayfeather hesitated, unwilling to discuss Cinderheart—or anything else—with his mother. But he could sense Leafpool’s determination, and knew he wouldn’t be able to put her off. “Okay,” he sighed. “Go ahead.”

“Not here,” Leafpool meowed. “Let’s go into the forest. I don’t think that what I have to say should be overheard.”

Suppressing a sigh, Jayfeather followed her out of the forest and into the camp. As he padded beside her, he felt the usual sense of disbelief that Leafpool was his mother. Sometimes she felt more like a stranger to him than a cat from another Clan.

Leafpool halted beneath a broad tree with noisy, rustling leaves; Jayfeather could hear the trickle of water close by. “So?” he demanded.

“I had a dream last night,” Leafpool murmured; Jayfeather had to lean close to hear her. “Spottedleaf came to me, and told me that Yellowfang wants to tell Cinderheart about… about who she was before. Is that right?”

“Yes,” Jayfeather replied.

“Well, she can’t!” Leafpool burst out; Jayfeather winced at the lightning bolt of her emotions. “Cinderheart has been given the chance to live a different life, as a warrior and as a mother. If you tell her about her previous life, you will rob her of that chance.”

Jayfeather could hear Leafpool tearing at the grass with her claws. He tried to interrupt her, but she ignored him.

“I was Cinderpelt’s apprentice,” Leafpool went on. “I knew her well. I knew she had longed to be a warrior, a mate, and a mother, but all that was taken away from her when she had the accident on the Thunderpath. In spite of that, she was a good medicine cat, one of the best that ThunderClan will ever have. I won’t let her life be taken away from her again!”

“But the Clan has to come first,” Jayfeather argued. “More medicine cats are needed.”

Leafpool was silent for a moment. Both of them knew that she was a fully trained medicine cat quite capable of caring for her Clan, if only she hadn’t broken the medicine cat code, as well as the warrior code, by taking a cat from another Clan as her mate. But neither she nor Jayfeather mentioned that. The silence stretched out until it tingled between them as if a storm were about to break.