She padded out of the forest and stopped beside him. “Are you okay?”
Jayfeather tensed, ready to argue, but no words came. He felt hollow.
“Firestar seemed flustered when he came back to camp,” Leafpool meowed softly. “I was worried about you.”
Stop acting like my mother! It’s too late for that!
Leafpool moved closer without touching him. “I know how it feels, to lose your place as medicine cat.”
“Firestar says I can keep treating my Clanmates,” Jayfeather reminded her.
“Brightheart could treat the Clan,” Leafpool pointed out. “But that doesn’t make her a medicine cat.” Anger suddenly sparked from her pelt. “You need to be able to visit StarClan and share with the other medicine cats and our ancestors.”
Jayfeather jerked away from her, unnerved that she understood so clearly. “I don’t care,” he insisted. He wasn’t going to be tricked into feeling close to her.
“Go to the Moonpool.” Leafpool ignored his protest. “Share your dreams with StarClan. Find Flametail and make him tell the truth to his Clanmates.”
Jayfeather flattened his ears. “How can I go? I’m not allowed to be a medicine cat outside ThunderClan!”
“No one can stop you from visiting the Moonpool,” Leafpool argued. “Do you think any cat would risk displeasing StarClan by standing in your way? Go to them and make Flametail tell the truth!”
Chapter 3
Jayfeather closed his eyes, listening to the leaves crunch as Leafpool padded away. He could sense starlight dancing on his pelt. Far below, tiny waves splashed at the shore. Though he hated to admit it, Leafpool was right.
When he reached the Moonpool, Jayfeather called out hopefully. “Is anyone there?”
His mew echoed back, unanswered. He was alone.
Pushing away disappointment, he followed the dimpled path that spiraled down into the heart of the hollow. The wind whined overhead, worrying at the encircling rock like an abandoned kit searching for its mother. Jayfeather longed to feel the pelts of long-dead cats that used to jostle and hurry him down to the water’s edge. But there was no sign of the Ancients who had dented the stone with their pawsteps over so many generations. Jayfeather stopped alone at the water’s edge, hollow with a loneliness he’d never felt before. Closing his eyes, he crouched beside the Moonpool and touched his nose to the water.
“Jayfeather.”
Jayfeather sat up. He had expected to wake in the warm meadows of StarClan. But he was still in the hollow.
“Jayfeather.” A she-cat sat beside him.
He’d awoken into a vision; he could see her white pelt, spotted black along her flanks. Her pink nose stretched toward him, twitching as she sniffed.
Jayfeather blinked at her. “Who are you?”
“Brambleberry of RiverClan.”
Brambleberry? Jayfeather suddenly recognized the pelt he’d seen often in StarClan’s hunting grounds. This was the gentle RiverClan medicine cat who tended to her Clan in the days before Leopardstar and Mistystar.
“Did Willowshine send you?” Jayfeather felt a flash of hope. Perhaps the RiverClan medicine cat was trying to communicate with him despite the rift between Clans.
Brambleberry shook her head. “I came to appeal to your wisdom, not hers.”
“But you’re RiverClan.”
“So?” Starlight twinkled in Brambleberry’s round blue eyes. “The Clans are like honeysuckle. One tendril chokes the other to reach for the light, believing they grow from separate stems.”
Jayfeather pricked his ears as she went on.
“When the sun shines, young leaves fight for its warmth. The struggle makes the bush strong, each branch seeking out the light and climbing ever higher.” Brambleberry’s eyes darkened. “But when there is no sun, when the leaves begin to fall and the branches wither one by one, the stem must look to its roots for nourishment.”
“So instead of four branches, there is one root,” Jayfeather murmured. “But how? The Clans have been divided since the beginning of time.”
“You have created your own boundaries, setting them and patrolling them.” Brambleberry tipped her head to one side. “But they exist only in your minds. Why else would you have to mark them each day with fresh scent?”
Was she saying they should live as one Clan? Jayfeather frowned. “But we need boundaries,” he argued. “To grow strong. You said so.”
“Perhaps,” Brambleberry conceded. “When the sun shines.” She leaned closer. “But a great darkness is coming.”
Jayfeather shifted his paws. “But I don’t want to become mixed up with ShadowClan, or WindClan, or RiverClan.”
Brambleberry gazed at him softly. “You’re already half-Clan.”
Jayfeather’s fur spiked. “I’m ThunderClan from nose to tail. And my heart is loyal only to them.”
“It was you who fixed your heart on ThunderClan,” Brambleberry insisted. “But you’re half-WindClan, just as Graystripe and Silverstream’s kits were half-RiverClan. And Stormfur’s heart beats for the Tribe now. Who knows where Feathertail’s loyalties would lie if she’d lived?” The old medicine cat dipped her head. “Loyalty makes Clan cats strong. But no Clan has pure blood running beneath every pelt.”
“Why are you telling me this?” Jayfeather’s tail twitched. “Being half-Clan isn’t a sign of strength. It’s what happens when cats are disloyal.” He unsheathed his claws. “It’s what happens when they betray the warrior code!”
Brambleberry’s gaze hardened. “Are you listening to me?” she growled. “Or are you too busy worrying about whether your blood smells of forest or moorland?” She snorted. “The Clans must unite! Don’t look for boundaries that aren’t there. Look for the ones that are.”
Wind spiraled down into the hollow and set the Moonpool rippling. Jayfeather turned and saw its surface color and change until it reflected a landscape. A circle of water shone at its center, surrounded by hills and trees.
“It’s the lake!” he gasped. “And there’s ThunderClan territory!” He gazed at the bright green forest. This must be how an eagle would see the Clans’ territories. Jayfeather squinted, trying to make out more detail.
“Are you looking for the scent lines?” Brambleberry flicked her tail. “Can you see them?”
“It’s too far away.” Jayfeather could only see one landscape blending into another, the gentle slope of valleys and glittering trails cut by rivers and streams.
“This is how StarClan sees your home,” Brambleberry explained. “We see the beauty of it and the richness. We don’t see which tree belongs to which Clan. Don’t look for boundaries that aren’t there…”
“…look for the boundaries that are.” Jayfeather echoed her words, searching the landscape again. “But where are they?”
Brambleberry touched his cheek with her tail-tip, guiding his gaze back to her. “The only true borders lie between day and night, between life and death, between hope and loss.”
Jayfeather stared at the medicine cat. “So why is StarClan telling us to stay inside our territories, to listen only to our Clanmates?” he asked.
Brambleberry shifted her paws. “We can’t see your lands anymore,” she confessed. Her gaze flashed toward the pool. “It’s all dark to us now and we are frightened.”
Jayfeather whisked his tail. “What can I do?”
“Make them see!”
“The Clans?”
“StarClan!”
“Why can’t you do it?”
“I wasn’t born with the power of the stars in my paws!” Brambleberry turned and began to follow the curving path out of the hollow. “Make them understand that the Clans must fight together or die divided.”