Nightcloud let out a long sigh of relief. “Thank StarClan!”
“If you want,” the medicine cat continued, “one of you can spend the night with him so you’ll be there when he regains consciousness. That way I can see to treating the other injured cats.”
Crowfeather glanced at Nightcloud; he would be happy to stay with their son, but Breezepelt would probably rather see Nightcloud when he woke.
But before either of them could speak, Heathertail stepped forward eagerly. “I’ll stay.” Then she too glanced at Nightcloud, ducking her head in embarrassment. “If that’s okay with you, of course,” she added.
Crowfeather expected Nightcloud to object, knowing how possessive and protective of Breezepelt she had always been. At first she was clearly fighting with the urge to admonish Heathertail, her whiskers twitching irritably, but then she stepped back a pace with a glance at Crowfeather. He gave her a nod of approval, knowing how hard it would be for her to release her hold on Breezepelt.
Finally, Nightcloud let out a pleased purr and gestured with her tail for Heathertail to enter the den. While Heathertail padded inside, the black she-cat and Crowfeather waited for Kestrelflight to check their wounds and treat them with chervil to prevent infection.
“You should be fine,” the medicine cat meowed. “Go get some rest, and I’ll examine you again in the morning.”
Crowfeather was so exhausted that he didn’t put up any kind of fight. He went directly to the warriors’ den, and not even the pain of his injuries or his worry about Breezepelt could keep him awake. He fell asleep before his eyes even closed.
It felt as if only moments had passed before a paw prodded him on his shoulder, rousing him at last. He opened his eyes to see the sun rising above the moor and Nightcloud standing over him.
“What are you, a dormouse?” she asked. “Come see how Breezepelt is getting along.”
Crowfeather willingly followed her to the medicine-cat den, trying to ignore the uncomfortable fluttering in his belly when he wondered what he would find there. He felt shaky with relief when he heard Breezepelt’s mew as they approached the den, sounding strong and free from pain.
Stepping inside the den at Nightcloud’s side, Crowfeather saw that Kestrelflight wasn’t there. Breezepelt was sitting up in his nest, with Heathertail crouched beside him. The two young cats were gazing into each other’s eyes; Crowfeather could sense the love between them.
He cleared his throat, and at the sound Breezepelt’s head swiveled toward the entrance, while Heathertail eased back a little so she wasn’t so close to him.
“Greetings,” Nightcloud meowed. “How are you feeling, Breezepelt?”
“Like every stoat on the territory has taken a bite out of me,” Breezepelt replied wryly. “But I’m going to be fine.”
“A group of WindClan and ThunderClan cats are going to go through the tunnels and make sure the stoats are really gone,” Nightcloud went on. “If you want to go, Heathertail, I’ll stay with Breezepelt.”
“Oh, I’m happy to stay if Harespring wants you to go,” Heathertail responded eagerly.
I’m sure you are, Crowfeather thought, exchanging an amused glance with Nightcloud. The two young cats were gazing into each other’s eyes again, and Nightcloud leaned over to murmur into Crowfeather’s ear.
“I think the Clan will be welcoming new kits before long.”
The next morning, Crowfeather padded through the dim tunnels, part of a patrol that included Nightcloud, Lionblaze, and Cloudtail, with Harespring in the lead. His nose wrinkled at the smell of stoat.
I’m going to vomit if I can’t get away from that stink, he thought. It’s sinking into my fur… I’ll be tasting it for moons! If I never see another stoat, it will be too soon.
The patrols found plenty of evidence that the stoats had been there: holes filled with rotting prey and dens where nests had been scratched together from scraps of grass and bracken. But there was no sign that any of the stoats had returned.
All the while he was patrolling, Crowfeather was acutely conscious that Lionblaze was part of the group. He kept an eye on him, and started forward a couple of times before he eventually braced himself and managed to maneuver to walk beside him.
“There’s something I want to say to you,” he told the ThunderClan cat.
Lionblaze tilted his head to one side, giving Crowfeather a slightly suspicious look. His golden fur was torn to reveal scratches underneath, and he was limping slightly on one forepaw, but he was still the magnificent ThunderClan warrior who Crowfeather could hardly believe was his son.
“Okay,” Lionblaze mewed at last. He slowed his pace so that he and Crowfeather gradually dropped behind the rest of the patrol. “How is Breezepelt?” he asked hesitantly.
“He’ll be fine,” Crowfeather replied. When Lionblaze acknowledged his news with a nod, he continued awkwardly, the words he had been waiting to say bursting out of him.
“I’m sorry I didn’t accept you and your littermates when I found out about you. I’m sorry that I said I had only one kit, and that anything else was a lie. If I’d known…” He stumbled over his words and had to begin again, while Lionblaze listened, expressionless. “If I’d only known when you were kits, when you needed me, surely things would have been different. I have no excuses, but… I hope you can forgive me for the way I acted.”
Lionblaze paused for a moment before replying, his amber eyes gleaming with disbelief in the dim light of the tunnel, as if he was questioning why Crowfeather was even bothering to talk to him. “It doesn’t matter,” he responded at last. “I was a full-grown warrior by the time I found out that you and Leafpool were my parents. I don’t need to be your kit. Bramblestar was the only father we knew, and he was a great one. He’ll always be my father, no matter what.”
Crowfeather nodded, feeling the pain of rejection. He was glad that he had spoken, but he accepted that he could not control how his son responded. I guess Lionblaze and Jayfeather will always resent me.
“I’m not angry with you,” Lionblaze added. “I accept your apology, and I’m grateful for the way it all turned out.”
A little reassured, Crowfeather dipped his head again in acceptance. He began reaching out his tail to touch Lionblaze on the shoulder, then hastily drew it back again as he realized that would never be their relationship. This cordial agreement, with the air cleared between them, was the best he could hope for. And I have to learn to be okay with that.
Part of Crowfeather was sad at the thought of what might have been, but mostly he was filled with relief that he and Lionblaze had reached an understanding. It felt like a cool shower of rain in a dry season.
For a brief moment, Crowfeather wondered what his life would have been like if he and Leafpool had never returned to their Clans. They would have found a place to live happily, with Lionblaze and Jayfeather and Hollyleaf, and maybe many other kits. But then Crowfeather pushed the vision away. All three of their kits would have been different if he and Leafpool had raised them together, and he guessed that in the end Leafpool’s love of her Clan would have drawn her back to her calling as a medicine cat. The knowledge hurt, but everything had happened as it was meant to. And Crowfeather felt humbled that Lionblaze had forgiven him.
Crowfeather and Lionblaze caught up to the rest of the patrol as they emerged from the tunnels, blinking in the sunlight that seemed dazzling after so long in the dark. Harespring, who had been leading the patrol, bounded up to Onestar.
“The tunnels are clear of stoats,” he reported.
“And it’s time we were leaving,” Squirrelflight added, gathering the ThunderClan cats together with a wave of her bushy tail. “Let us know if you have any more trouble.”