Instantly understanding the danger, Lionblaze rushed across to Mousewhisker and tried to hold the young warrior down; Mousewhisker’s legs were jerking in agony and he raked his claws across Lionblaze’s shoulder. Leafpool wasn’t finding it any easier to control Cherrypaw; though her movements were strong and confident, her eyes were terrified.
“Foxleap, give us some help over here!” As Lionblaze called to his Clanmate he noticed that Cinderheart had appeared at the entrance to the camp. She was staring at the sick cats in horror, as if she couldn’t bear to watch but couldn’t tear her gaze away.
Suddenly she leaped forward, whisking past Lionblaze. “I’ll get the herbs,” she mewed, racing for Jayfeather’s den.
Leafpool looked up. “We need—”
“I know,” Cinderheart interrupted, casting a glance back as she vanished behind the bramble screen.
Foxleap went to help Leafpool with Cherrypaw, while Hazeltail bounded across to Lionblaze and joined him in holding Mousewhisker down. Her littermate’s thrashing legs knocked her off her paws, but she scrambled up and grabbed at him again.
Within a few heartbeats Cinderheart was back with a bundle of yarrow in her jaws. Dropping the bunch beside Leafpool, she turned back to Lionblaze. “Hold his head,” she mewed crisply. “No, not like that—your paw’s in the way of his mouth. I need you to hold him so that I can get some yarrow between his jaws.”
Lionblaze stared at her. “Where did you learn all this stuff?”
“We don’t have time for this!” Cinderheart snapped as she slapped his paws into position. “Just do as I say.” She chewed up a mouthful of the herbs and forced the pulp between Mousewhisker’s jaws. Then she began to massage his belly, kneading it strongly as if she were a kit trying to get milk from her mother. Beside her, Leafpool was doing exactly the same for Cherrypaw.
Cinderheart glanced across to check on her. “More pressure a bit higher up,” she instructed.
To Lionblaze’s surprise, Leafpool nodded. Her eyes were a little wider than usual, but she didn’t pause to ask why Cinderheart was suddenly telling her what to do.
What in the name of StarClan is going on? Lionblaze wondered. Has Cinderheart been secretly training to be a medicine cat? Why would she do that?
Heartbeats later, both sick cats vomited up mouthfuls of evil-smelling slime.
“That’s very good,” Cinderheart soothed Mousewhisker, stroking his shoulder as he choked wretchedly. “You’ll feel better soon.”
A tail-length away Leafpool was comforting Cherrypaw; the young apprentice looked worn out and utterly miserable.
“Are you sure she’ll be okay?” Poppyfrost fretted, bending over her kit.
“She’ll be fine,” Leafpool assured her.
“Thank StarClan!” Daisy exclaimed.
As every cat relaxed, realizing that the crisis was over, Lionblaze studied Cinderheart more closely. She seemed to have changed her expression into something he didn’t recognize at all. Her color and shape and size were still the same, but her eyes were not the eyes of the cat he knew and loved.
Leaving Cherrypaw with her mother, Leafpool padded over to check on Mousewhisker.
“Have you been training Cinderheart?” Lionblaze whispered to her.
“No, not at all,” Leafpool whispered back, her eyes clouded with something unreadable.
“Then how does she know all this stuff?” Lionblaze demanded, raising his voice. “I don’t understand!”
“I don’t care,” Hazeltail meowed. “Just as long as she saves Mousewhisker’s life.”
Cinderheart looked up at Leafpool, a world of sadness in her gaze.
“You know, then?” Leafpool murmured.
Cinderheart nodded. “Yes, I know.”
Lionblaze heard paw steps behind him and turned to see Jayfeather striding across the clearing with Brightheart at his side. Both cats carried bunches of herbs in their jaws.
“What’s going on?” Jayfeather called, his voice muffled by his mouthful of leaves.
As briefly as he could, Lionblaze told Jayfeather how Mousewhisker and Cherrypaw had poisoned themselves with water hemlock. “Leafpool—”
“This is what comes from Firestar’s idea of teaching the Clan about herbs,” Jayfeather interrupted, rapidly checking Cherrypaw and then Mousewhisker. “If they hadn’t thought that they knew what to do, this would never have happened. They’ll be okay,” he added grudgingly. “Foxleap, Hazeltail, help them both into my den.”
“Cinderheart knew exactly what to do,” Leafpool mewed as the sick cats moved off shakily, leaning on Foxleap and Hazeltail.
Jayfeather’s head whipped around, his eyes wide with shock. “What?”
Cinderheart faced him steadily. “How could I stand by and do nothing, knowing what I know now?”
“What have you done?” Leafpool hissed at Jayfeather. “I thought we agreed she should be allowed to live in peace?”
“She deserved to know the truth,” Jayfeather snapped back at her. “And to know that StarClan chose a new destiny for her.”
Lionblaze felt the ground tilt under his paws. Cinderheart’s destiny? What are they talking about?
“I’m still here, you know,” Cinderheart pointed out, narrowing her eyes at Leafpool and Jayfeather.
“Then I’m sorry you had to find out,” Leafpool told her, glaring at Jayfeather. “I thought we had agreed to keep it from you.”
A flame of anger flared in Cinderheart’s blue eyes. “And let me live in ignorance of who I truly am? You had no right to decide that!”
“But this changes everything,” Leafpool mewed, her tail drooping. “And nothing was wrong before.”
“Everything was a lie before!” Cinderheart lifted her voice in a wail. “If I was truly given a second chance, StarClan should have kept those memories away. But I can’t forget now, I can’t stop memories pouring into my head.”
“Cinderheart, I—” Leafpool began.
Cinderheart’s fur bristled. “I know every path in the old forest!” she flashed back. “I know Snakerocks and Sunningrocks. I remember Gatherings at Fourtrees. I remember delivering kits when I was Yellowfang’s apprentice, but not being able to save their mother. Do you have any idea how that feels? I remember deceiving my Clan, when I was trying to save sick ShadowClan cats. I remember—” Her voice broke. “I remember everything.”
Leafpool rested her tail-tip on Cinderheart’s shoulder, and for a moment the gray she-cat didn’t move away.
“I never meant for you to feel like this,” Jayfeather whispered. “I just wanted you to know what StarClan did for you.”
“But I can’t help feeling like this,” Cinderheart retorted. “I can’t just forget about my former life, when I was Cinderpelt.”
As he listened Lionblaze had felt like a kit struggling in a flooding stream, with nothing solid to hold on to. Now it was as if his paws had slammed against the bottom, leaving him stunned.
Cinderheart used to be Cinderpelt? How is that possible?
“I don’t know who I am anymore,” Cinderheart went on, her voice throbbing with sorrow. “All this time, have I been just the echo of a dead cat?”
“No.” Leafpool spoke gently, but her voice was full of conviction. “No, you are so much more than that.”
Cinderheart sprang away from her, whirling to face her, crouching as if she were about to pounce on prey. “I don’t believe you!” she hissed. Without giving Leafpool the chance to reply, she sprang forward and bounded across the clearing, disappearing into the gap in the barrier.
“I’ll go after her,” Lionblaze meowed.
Jayfeather nodded. “I’ll come with you.”
“No.” Lionblaze glared at his brother, rage welling up inside him. You knew all along, and you never told me! “I’m going alone.”