Hollyleaf huddled on a thin branch that swayed beneath her weight. She peered down through the dark green pine needles and watched the fox circling far below. Of course he doesn’t remember me. I’m nothing more than prey! Hollyleaf sank her claws into the branch, closed her eyes, and waited for her heart to stop trying to punch its way out of her chest.
When she opened her eyes again, it was dark. Fear and flight must have exhausted her enough to sleep on her uncomfortable perch. The woods were silent, and all she could smell was snow and the stinging scent of pinesap. The cub was long gone. Above the trees, a full silver moon floated in the sky, surrounded by dazzling stars. The forest was bathed in crisp white light, and Hollyleaf could see all the way to the top of the ridge. On the other side, the four Clans would be meeting on the island for the Gathering. Would her name be mentioned? Did any cat ever wonder what had happened to her? Hollyleaf felt a wave of misery so intense she almost lost her grip on the branch. When it dipped alarmingly beneath her, she came to her senses and eased herself down the trunk to the snowy ground.
There was a sharp pain in her belly, and as Hollyleaf trekked back through the trees she paused by a clump of yarrow that had been sheltered from the snow to eat a few leaves. But the ache inside her persisted, and Hollyleaf knew it was more than hunger: It was loneliness, and regret, and sadness. There was only one place she could go. Fluffing up her pelt against the bitter cold, Hollyleaf began to trudge up the slope.
Dawn was breaking by the time she arrived, lightening the shadows cast by the trees in the moonlight and rousing a few birds into song. Hollyleaf staggered the last few paces and paused at the entrance, gasping for breath. The tunnel yawned ahead of her, warm and dark and welcoming.
“Fallen Leaves!” she called as she plunged inside. “Fallen Leaves, are you there?”
Chapter 7
Hollyleaf slept for two whole days after her return. Fallen Leaves brought her fish to eat when she briefly stirred, and some herbs that she didn’t recognize for the niggling cough that developed as soon as she was out of the constant wind. Her nest was where she had left it, but softer and deeper than she remembered.
“I added more feathers,” Fallen Leaves admitted shyly. “In case you came back.” Then he climbed delicately alongside her, and curled his cold body around hers while she drifted back to sleep.
Finally she woke with a clearer head, feeling hungry and restless. Yellow light seeped into the tunnel, hinting at sunshine outside. Hollyleaf was alone in her nest but Fallen Leaves appeared almost at once, carrying a minnow.
“Here, eat this,” he urged, dropping it beside her.
It didn’t taste as good as the mice and squirrels in the woods—nothing would taste that good again, Hollyleaf suspected—but she swallowed it obediently, feeling strength flow back into her legs. Fallen Leaves sat beside her nest and watched.
“I saw the fox cub again,” Hollyleaf announced as she cleaned the last traces of fish from her whiskers.
Fallen Leaves looked surprised. “Are you sure it was the same one?”
“Definitely. I knew its scent right away.”
“Did it recognize you?” Fallen Leaves asked.
Hollyleaf looked down at her paws and shook her head. She felt stupid and embarrassed to admit what she had done, but she hoped Fallen Leaves wouldn’t judge her too harshly. “It saw me as a juicy piece of prey,” she mewed quietly. “I only just got away.”
She felt something soft on her ear as Fallen Leaves touched her with the tip of his tail. “I’m so sorry. You save his life, and he repays you like that? Honestly, some animals have no gratitude!”
There was a note of barely suppressed amusement in his voice and Hollyleaf looked up to see his eyes shining with humor. “I guess it was kind of mouse-brained to think he’d remember me,” she admitted.
“Just a bit!” Fallen Leaves exploded. “What did you think would happen? That he’d take you to his den to meet his mother?”
Hollyleaf shrugged. “I was so lonely,” she murmured. “I just wanted a friend.”
In an instant Fallen Leaves was crouched beside her, pressing his fur against hers. “And you have a friend,” he insisted. “Right here. Now, I’ve been awfully lazy about doing patrols while you were away. Should we start with a check of the tunnels—just in case that cub thinks about following you—and then see if you can remember how to catch a fish?”
Later, when the holes in the roof were dark and Hollyleaf’s paws were aching from running on stone, she lay in her nest of feathers and felt the pain of loneliness ease. She let out a purr, and Fallen Leaves stirred beside her.
“What are you thinking about?” he murmured.
“How glad I am that I came back,” Hollyleaf answered honestly. “I’m not cut out to live alone, I guess.”
Fallen Leaves licked her ear. “I’m glad you came back, too.”
Hollyleaf swiveled around to face him. “Do you ever think about the cats you left behind?”
“All the time,” Fallen Leaves meowed softly. “But it’s been so long, I don’t remember that much.”
Hollyleaf blinked. She’d been away from ThunderClan for several moons but she hadn’t forgotten a thing. “How many seasons have you been in the tunnels?”
Fallen Leaves shrugged and turned his face away. “More than I can count. But it’s too late to change anything now.”
Hollyleaf knew better than to suggest he go looking for his old community again. Instead, she settled herself more comfortably against his flank and prompted, “Tell me about your family. You must remember them.”
“My mother was called Broken Shadow. She was very kind and beautiful. She… she didn’t want me to go into the tunnels. I think she knew something bad would happen.”
“Couldn’t she stop you?” Hollyleaf asked.
“Not if I was going to be a sharpclaw,” Fallen Leaves replied. “That’s what I wanted, more than anything.” He trailed off, sounding achingly sad. Then he shook himself. “That’s all a long way in the past. What about your mother? Did you tell her you were leaving the Clan?”
Hollyleaf started slicing one of the feathers with her claw. “Not exactly,” she muttered.
Fallen Leaves stiffened. “You mean, she has no idea where you are? What if she thinks you’re dead?”
“It’s probably best if she does,” Hollyleaf whispered. As she spoke, she wondered which cat she was referring to: Leafpool, her real mother; or Squirrelflight, the cat who had raised her. “It’s complicated,” she confessed. “I… I have two mothers.”
Behind her, she sensed Fallen Leaves prick up his ears. “Two?”
“My real mother, Leafpool, is a medicine cat. She’s not supposed to have kits but she ran away with Crowfeather from WindClan, and when she came back, she gave birth to me and my brothers. To hide what she’d done, she gave us to her sister, Squirrelflight, who pretended we were her kits. Even Squirrelflight’s mate, Brambleclaw, thought he was our father!”
Fallen Leaves was quiet for a moment. Then he asked, “Do you think Squirrelflight loved you?”