“Come and share?” Crookedstar invited her.
“Maybe later.” Yellowfang didn’t look back.
A little farther on, Jayfeather spotted Barkface, the old WindClan medicine cat; his heart gave a leap of sorrow when he saw that the cat with him was Flametail. They stood beside a clump of thyme; Barkface was pointing something out to the younger cat.
“Hey, Jayfeather, come and join us!” Flametail called.
Jayfeather’s paws were tugging him toward the medicine cats, but Yellowfang let out an annoyed hiss, and he had to follow her. “Sorry!” he replied. “Another time.”
As he turned back to follow Yellowfang, Jayfeather spotted a gray tom running swiftly through the trees. He halted, staring; as if aware of his gaze the other cat stopped and glanced back over his shoulder, returning Jayfeather’s stare with burning blue eyes. Then he turned and ran on, vanishing behind a clump of hazel saplings.
“Ashfur!” Jayfeather exclaimed, spinning around to face Yellowfang. He felt cold to the tips of his claws. “He’s here?”
“Why not?” The old cat’s voice was steady. “His only fault was to love too much.”
Jayfeather let out a snort of disbelief. “Hardly. He tried to push us off the cliff!”
“But he didn’t,” Yellowfang pointed out. “Squirrelflight stopped him—and maybe her only fault is that she loved too much, as well.”
“What do you mean?”
Yellowfang shrugged. “Work it out for yourself, mouse-brain. And get a move on. I haven’t got all day.”
Sighing in exasperation, Jayfeather followed her along a winding track that climbed through the trees until they emerged at the foot of a grassy hill. Yellowfang bounded up the slope and waited for Jayfeather to join her, panting, at the top.
“You need more exercise,” she commented, giving him a prod with one paw.
“I’ve been on my paws all night,” Jayfeather retorted. “StarClan cats might not get tired, but I do. What are we doing here, anyway?”
“Just look.” Yellowfang waved her tail at the scene below them.
Jayfeather gazed over the tops of the trees. StarClan’s forest looked open and inviting, dotted with clearings and lighter-colored trees, and cut through by a sparkling river. Cats were playing in the shallows, throwing up spray and splashing one another with the shining droplets. Jayfeather recognized the strong bodies and sleek pelts of RiverClan.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Yellowfang prompted after a few moments.
“Yes,” Jayfeather whispered.
The old medicine cat padded so close to him that their pelts brushed. “All this depends on you, Jayfeather,” she mewed. “You’re not just protecting ThunderClan now but all the Clans, including this one.”
Me? Jayfeather wanted to wail out loud like a lost kit, but he forced himself to stand still, looking across the peaceful landscape. “You don’t want me to go to the mountains because you’re scared of what will happen to the Clans.”
The old cat bowed her head. “Sometimes the right choice can be the hardest one,” she rasped.
Scenes flashed through Jayfeather’s mind, and he realized that he was seeing her memories: a younger Yellowfang, suckling a dark brown tabby kit; the same kit, big enough now to be an apprentice, fighting savagely with a young black she-cat; then muscular and full-grown, brushing through bracken with a terrified, mewling kit in his jaws; older now, with scarred, blinded eyes, crouched against a thorny barrier with a much younger Dustpelt guarding him. Last of all, Yellowfang herself, casting glances at the dark tom and snagging a scarlet deathberry on one claw.
Jayfeather shivered. Yellowfang’s life was so hard, but she faced it with courage.
“I’m sorry,” he mewed gently. “I understand how you feel, but I have to go to the mountains. It’s the right thing to do. I’ll come back, I promise.”
Yellowfang didn’t reply, just gazed at him with scared and sorrowful eyes as she began to fade from Jayfeather’s sight. Her gray fur seemed to melt into one enormous shadow, as the last of the light left the sky above StarClan’s forest. As darkness swallowed Jayfeather’s vision, he blinked open his eyes and found that he was in his den, with a frond of bracken from his nest tickling his nose.
Sneezing, Jayfeather sat up. A sharp dawn breeze ruffled his fur, and he could hear the sound of early-rising cats beginning to move around the clearing. Briarlight was stirring, too; Jayfeather rose to his paws and padded over to her.
“I’m so tired,” she complained, her words muffled by an enormous yawn. “Do I have to do my exercises today?”
“Of course you do! You can’t miss a single day!”
“Okay.” Briarlight sounded surprised that he was so vehement. “Just let me wake up a bit first.”
Jayfeather heard her scramble upright in her nest and start to groom her fur. “Briarlight, there’s something I have to tell you,” he mewed more quietly. “I have to go away for a while.”
“No!” Briarlight stopped grooming; her voice was terrified. “You can’t!”
“I have to,” Jayfeather repeated. “But it won’t be for long, I promise. Brightheart and Millie will take good care of you.”
“It’s not the same,” Briarlight whispered. “What if…?”
Her voice trailed off. Jayfeather understood very well what she was too scared to ask. “I wouldn’t go if I thought you were going to die,” he meowed bluntly.
He could feel Briarlight relaxing a little. “That’s why you’ve given me all these new exercises,” she murmured. “I will do them, I promise.”
“Good.” Jayfeather touched her ear with his nose. “Look, I’ve made four leaf wraps of traveling herbs, they’re at the entrance to the store. Show the other cats where they are when I send them in.”
“Okay.”
Leaving her to start her exercises, Jayfeather brushed past the brambles and padded into the clearing. Blossomfall was hurrying past him on her way to join a patrol; Jayfeather checked her with his tail.
“Have you seen Foxleap?”
“Yes, he’s still in the warrior’s den,” the young tortoiseshell replied. “Sleeping like a dead hedgehog. He’s not on early patrol.”
“Get him for me, would you?”
“But I’m—” Blossomfall began to protest, then sighed. “Okay.”
Jayfeather heard her bounding off. A few moments later Foxleap staggered up to him, yawning widely. “What is it, Jayfeather? I thought I’d catch up on my sleep after the Gathering.”
Yes, wouldn’t that be nice? “You’re going on a journey,” Jayfeather announced.
“A journey?” Foxleap suddenly sounded wide awake. “Where?”
“To the mountains.”
“Really? Me?” Excitement made Foxleap’s voice quiver and he gave a little bounce of anticipation. “You mean I get to meet the Tribe of Rushing Water, like the cats who made the Great Journey? Wow! I promise I’ll protect you, Jayfeather. I’ll be the best warrior you can imagine. I’ll stay on watch all night—”
“No need to overdo it,” Jayfeather murmured, suppressing a small mrrow of amusement. “I’ve made some leaf wraps of traveling herbs in my den,” he continued. “Briarlight will show you where they are.”
“You mean we’re going right now?” Foxleap sounded as if he was about to burst with excitement. At Jayfeather’s nod he bounded off toward the medicine cat’s den.
Firestar’s scent drifted over Jayfeather as the Clan leader padded up. “I see you’ve told Foxleap,” he meowed. “What about Squirrelflight and Dovewing?”
“I haven’t seen them yet.”
Firestar paused, then called out, “Hey, Squirrelflight! Over here a moment.”
“I’m just going to lead the dawn patrol.” Squirrelflight’s voice came from the direction of the thorn barrier.
“No, you’re not,” Firestar corrected her.