“It’s nothing,” Jayfeather muttered.
“Nonsense!” Cinderheart meowed. “You’re a medicine cat; you know very well it’s not nothing. Come on. You’d never let any of us leave camp without having that treated.”
Taking no notice of Jayfeather’s protests, she herded him back into his den and headed for the storage cleft. A moment later she came back with a bunch of chervil leaves in her jaws. “This should stop any infection,” she announced, beginning to chew them up.
When the poultice was ready, Cinderheart’s paws moved deftly and confidently as she plastered it on Jayfeather’s side. He let out a sigh of relief as the throbbing pain ebbed.
Does Cinderheart ever wonder why she feels so comfortable in the medicine cat’s den? She knew exactly which herb to use and what to do with it. Will it ever be the right time to tell her that she used to be Cinderpelt?
Another pang of foreboding shook him. If there is a battle coming that involves every warrior since the dawn of the Clans, we’ll need all the medicine cats we can get.
Once Cinderheart was satisfied, Jayfeather headed out again, his pelt sticky with her poultice. Branches rustled above his head, and huge plops of cold water began to fall, splashing on his fur and flung against the trees by the rising wind.
“It’s starting to rain!” Foxleap’s voice came from among the trees, and a moment later a patrol caught up to Jayfeather, with Squirrelflight, Rosepetal, and Icecloud.
“Hey, Jayfeather!” Foxleap chattered on. “Isn’t this great? If it keeps raining, we won’t have to go get water anymore.”
An irritated hiss came from Squirrelflight. “Foxleap, now look what you’ve done! You’ve dropped your moss, and it’s all dirty. Stop getting so excited, and concentrate.”
“Sorry,” Foxleap meowed, though he didn’t sound at all subdued. “I’ll wash it off when we get to the water.”
Jayfeather padded beside the patrol until they drew closer to the lake. Then he veered off, heading for the place where he had hidden his stick, and dragged it out from under the roots of the elder bush. Dropping it into the shelter of the bank, he sat down beside it and ran his paws over the scratches.
The voices of the ancient cats were faint and far away.
“Rock…” Jayfeather murmured. “Were you at the Moonpool last night? Do you know what is happening in the Dark Forest?”
“Yes, I know.” A voice breathed in Jayfeather’s ear, sending a shiver through him from ears to tail-tip. “But I cannot stop it—and even if I could, I would not. This is a storm that needs to break, Jayfeather.”
Jayfeather’s ears twitched up in shock. “Why?”
“There have been too many lies,” Rock replied. “Too much pain has been caused among the Clans. Cats will have their revenge, and the oldest grievances will be settled.”
Jayfeather turned his head toward the voice, and he saw the hazy shape of the ancient cat, with his hairless body and sightless, bulging eyes.
“Did you know?” he demanded. “About Leafpool and Crowfeather?”
Rock let out a sigh that stirred Jayfeather’s whiskers. “Yes, I knew.”
Jayfeather sprang to his paws. “Then why didn’t you tell me? Don’t you know how much pain we went through?”
“It was not your time to know, Jayfeather.” The ancient cat’s voice was calm and matter-of-fact. “You had to be raised as a ThunderClan cat, trained in medicine by your mother, Leafpool. That was your destiny, Jayfeather.”
“It’s not the destiny I wanted!” Jayfeather snapped.
“There was no room for you to be half-Clan from birth,” Rock went on, as though Jayfeather hadn’t spoken. “No room for you to be rejected because your mother had broken the code of the medicine cats and the warrior code.”
Jayfeather stared at him, hardly able to believe what he was hearing. “So you lied, and every cat lied, for the sake of the prophecy?” Rage was building inside him until he was angrier than he’d ever been before in his life; he dug his claws hard into the ground to stop himself from raking Rock’s eyes out. “Do you think it was worth it? Do you? I thought you were my friend!”
Slowly Rock shook his head. “I am no cat’s friend. I know too much for friendship. Be glad that you will never be burdened with the knowledge that I have. My curse is to live forever, knowing what has been and what has yet to be, powerless to change anything.”
His outline began to fade. As it vanished, Jayfeather’s fury erupted. He felt around on the ground until he located a sharp stone. Then he snatched up the stick, balanced it across the stone, and brought his forepaws smashing down on one end. He heard the stick break, and splinters pierced his paws. Rock and the ancient Clans had betrayed him, too. Did no cat tell the truth, ever?
In the same heartbeat, thunder crashed out overhead, rolling around the sky. Rain cascaded down onto the lakebed. Jayfeather crouched under the bank, his jaws wide in a soundless wail, and wrapped his paws over his ears.
Chapter 24
Dovepaw sank her claws into a branch as the wave of floodwater swept her downstream. The yowling of terrified cats was all around her, but she could see nothing except the heaving dark water and the tops of the trees as they spun past. Her pelt was drenched, she was shivering with cold, and she was more afraid than she had ever been in her life.
“Hold on!” Lionblaze’s voice rose above the chaos of the storm.
“Where are you?” Dovepaw wailed, but there was no reply.
A wave crashed over her, filling her mouth and nose with water. Still managing to cling to the branch, she forced her head to the surface, spluttering and coughing as she fought to breathe. Harsh yellow light flashed across her vision, and Dovepaw realized that she was being carried past the dens of the Twolegplace. I hope the kittypets get home safe, she thought fuzzily.
Something dark loomed up ahead of her: the branches of an overhanging tree, dipping down and trailing in the surge of water. Dovepaw kicked out frantically, trying to avoid it, but the floodwater drove her right into the middle of the branches. They scraped at her fur as she was carried past, almost sweeping her off her branch.
Gripping as hard as she could, until she thought her claws would be ripped out, Dovepaw was suddenly jerked into open water again. A bundle of tabby fur, dark from the water, whisked past her with a wail.
Tigerheart!
Blinking water out of her eyes, Dovepaw watched with horror as the young ShadowClan warrior vanished under the surface.
StarClan, no!
Taking a deep breath, she let go of her branch and plunged after him. Catching at memories of Rippletail and Petalfur swimming in the pool behind the dam, she tried to copy their movements. But it was hard. Her soaked fur was heavy and her legs ached with exhaustion. She kept banging into more floating branches that pushed her under the water, and when she resurfaced, waves spat in her eyes.
Dovepaw had almost given up hope of ever finding her friend when she caught a glimpse of Tigerheart bobbing up again less than a tail-length from her, before vanishing almost at once. She swam toward him, then dived under the surface.
Above, the water had been dark, with only fitful gleams of moonlight flickering on the surface. Down here, Dovepaw felt as blind as Jayfeather, sending out her senses to locate Tigerheart and pushing through the murky water until her paws touched his pelt.
He’s not moving! Am I too late?