The Forgotten Warrior

by Erin Hunter

  But she didn’t head for Jayfeather’s den. Instead, she braced her paws on Cherrypaw’s legs, trying to stop her from thrashing around.

  “What are you doing?” Poppyfrost hissed.

  “They have to keep still,” Leafpool told her. “If they flail around like this they could choke on their tongues.”

  Instantly understanding the danger, Lionblaze rushed across to Mousewhisker and tried to hold the young warrior down; Mousewhisker’s legs were jerking in agony and he raked his claws across Lionblaze’s shoulder. Leafpool wasn’t finding it any easier to control Cherrypaw; though her movements were strong and confident, her eyes were terrified.

  “Foxleap, give us some help over here!” As Lionblaze called to his Clanmate he noticed that Cinderheart had appeared at the entrance to the camp. She was staring at the sick cats in horror, as if she couldn’t bear to watch but couldn’t tear her gaze away.

  Suddenly she leaped forward, whisking past Lionblaze. “I’ll get the herbs,” she mewed, racing for Jayfeather’s den.

  Leafpool looked up. “We need—”

  “I know,” Cinderheart interrupted, casting a glance back as she vanished behind the bramble screen.

  Foxleap went to help Leafpool with Cherrypaw, while Hazeltail bounded across to Lionblaze and joined him in holding Mousewhisker down. Her littermate’s thrashing legs knocked her off her paws, but she scrambled up and grabbed at him again.

  Within a few heartbeats Cinderheart was back with a bundle of yarrow in her jaws. Dropping the bunch beside Leafpool, she turned back to Lionblaze. “Hold his head,” she mewed crisply. “No, not like that—your paw’s in the way of his mouth. I need you to hold him so that I can get some yarrow between his jaws.”

  Lionblaze stared at her. “Where did you learn all this stuff?”

  “We don’t have time for this!” Cinderheart snapped as she slapped his paws into position. “Just do as I say.” She chewed up a mouthful of the herbs and forced the pulp between Mousewhisker’s jaws. Then she began to massage his belly, kneading it strongly as if she were a kit trying to get milk from her mother. Beside her, Leafpool was doing exactly the same for Cherrypaw.

  Cinderheart glanced across to check on her. “More pressure a bit higher up,” she instructed.

  To Lionblaze’s surprise, Leafpool nodded. Her eyes were a little wider than usual, but she didn’t pause to ask why Cinderheart was suddenly telling her what to do.

  What in the name of StarClan is going on? Lionblaze wondered. Has Cinderheart been secretly training to be a medicine cat? Why would she do that?

  Heartbeats later, both sick cats vomited up mouthfuls of evil-smelling slime.

  “That’s very good,” Cinderheart soothed Mousewhisker, stroking his shoulder as he choked wretchedly. “You’ll feel better soon.”

  A tail-length away Leafpool was comforting Cherrypaw; the young apprentice looked worn out and utterly miserable.

  “Are you sure she’ll be okay?” Poppyfrost fretted, bending over her kit.

  “She’ll be fine,” Leafpool assured her.

  “Thank StarClan!” Daisy exclaimed.

  As every cat relaxed, realizing that the crisis was over, Lionblaze studied Cinderheart more closely. She seemed to have changed her expression into something he didn’t recognize at all. Her color and shape and size were still the same, but her eyes were not the eyes of the cat he knew and loved.

  Leaving Cherrypaw with her mother, Leafpool padded over to check on Mousewhisker.

  “Have you been training Cinderheart?” Lionblaze whispered to her.

  “No, not at all,” Leafpool whispered back, her eyes clouded with something unreadable.

  “Then how does she know all this stuff?” Lionblaze demanded, raising his voice. “I don’t understand!”

  “I don’t care,” Hazeltail meowed. “Just as long as she saves Mousewhisker’s life.”

  Cinderheart looked up at Leafpool, a world of sadness in her gaze.

  “You know, then?” Leafpool murmured.

  Cinderheart nodded. “Yes, I know.”

  Lionblaze heard paw steps behind him and turned to see Jayfeather striding across the clearing with Brightheart at his side. Both cats carried bunches of herbs in their jaws.

  “What’s going on?” Jayfeather called, his voice muffled by his mouthful of leaves.

  As briefly as he could, Lionblaze told Jayfeather how Mousewhisker and Cherrypaw had poisoned themselves with water hemlock. “Leafpool—”

  “This is what comes from Firestar’s idea of teaching the Clan about herbs,” Jayfeather interrupted, rapidly checking Cherrypaw and then Mousewhisker. “If they hadn’t thought that they knew what to do, this would never have happened. They’ll be okay,” he added grudgingly. “Foxleap, Hazeltail, help them both into my den.”

  “Cinderheart knew exactly what to do,” Leafpool mewed as the sick cats moved off shakily, leaning on Foxleap and Hazeltail.

  Jayfeather’s head whipped around, his eyes wide with shock. “What?”

  Cinderheart faced him steadily. “How could I stand by and do nothing, knowing what I know now?”

  “What have you done?” Leafpool hissed at Jayfeather. “I thought we agreed she should be allowed to live in peace?”

  “She deserved to know the truth,” Jayfeather snapped back at her. “And to know that StarClan chose a new destiny for her.”

  Lionblaze felt the ground tilt under his paws. Cinderheart’s destiny? What are they talking about?

  “I’m still here, you know,” Cinderheart pointed out, narrowing her eyes at Leafpool and Jayfeather.

  “Then I’m sorry you had to find out,” Leafpool told her, glaring at Jayfeather. “I thought we had agreed to keep it from you.”

  A flame of anger flared in Cinderheart’s blue eyes. “And let me live in ignorance of who I truly am? You had no right to decide that!”

  “But this changes everything,” Leafpool mewed, her tail drooping. “And nothing was wrong before.”

  “Everything was a lie before!” Cinderheart lifted her voice in a wail. “If I was truly given a second chance, StarClan should have kept those memories away. But I can’t forget now, I can’t stop memories pouring into my head.”

  “Cinderheart, I—” Leafpool began.

  Cinderheart’s fur bristled. “I know every path in the old forest!” she flashed back. “I know Snakerocks and Sunningrocks. I remember Gatherings at Fourtrees. I remember delivering kits when I was Yellowfang’s apprentice, but not being able to save their mother. Do you have any idea how that feels? I remember deceiving my Clan, when I was trying to save sick ShadowClan cats. I remember—” Her voice broke. “I remember everything.”

  Leafpool rested her tail-tip on Cinderheart’s shoulder, and for a moment the gray she-cat didn’t move away.

  “I never meant for you to feel like this,” Jayfeather whispered. “I just wanted you to know what StarClan did for you.”

  “But I can’t help feeling like this,” Cinderheart retorted. “I can’t just forget about my former life, when I was Cinderpelt.”

  As he listened Lionblaze had felt like a kit struggling in a flooding stream, with nothing solid to hold on to. Now it was as if his paws had slammed against the bottom, leaving him stunned.

  Cinderheart used to be Cinderpelt? How is that possible?

  “I don’t know who I am anymore,” Cinderheart went on, her voice throbbing with sorrow. “All this time, have I been just the echo of a dead cat?”

  “No.” Leafpool spoke gently, but her voice was full of conviction. “No, you are so much more than that.”

  Cinderheart sprang away from her, whirling to face her, crouching as if she were about to pounce on prey. “I don’t believe you!” she hissed. Without giving Leafpool the chance to reply, she sprang forward and bounded across the clearing, disappearing into the gap in the barrier.

  “I’ll go after her,” Lionblaze meowed.

  Jayfeather nodded. “I’ll come with you.”


  “No.” Lionblaze glared at his brother, rage welling up inside him. You knew all along, and you never told me! “I’m going alone.”

  “Okay, keep your fur on,” Jayfeather muttered. “Tell me what happens.”

  “Be kind to her!” Leafpool called after Lionblaze as he bounded away.

  Out in the forest, Lionblaze followed Cinderheart’s scent trail. She seemed to have dashed blindly away from the hollow, breaking through the undergrowth, leaving tufts of gray fur on brambles that trailed across her path. He found her at last crouched under a leaf-laden hazel bush, shredding a twig to pieces with her claws.

  “You’ll need medicine cat skills to put that back together,” Lionblaze joked as he slid underneath the hazel boughs and crouched beside her.

  “Really?” Cinderheart looked up at him, her blue gaze savage with misery. “Aren’t I lucky, then, that I have so many?”

  Lionblaze realized that he had said the wrong thing. “I’m sorry,” he mewed. “I hate this, too, for both our sakes.”

  The rage faded from Cinderheart’s eyes. “I don’t know who I am anymore.”

  “You’re Cinderheart,” Lionblaze assured her, touching her ear with his nose. “You always have been.”

  “No, not always,” Cinderheart replied, blinking unhappily. “Once I was Cinderpelt. And I’ve walked this path before, every step of it.”

  “What do you mean?” Lionblaze asked, confused. “You’re a warrior now, not a medicine cat.”

  “I don’t know what I am.” Cinderheart gave a last scratch at the remains of the twig. “But what I meant was . . . I’ve been in love before with a cat that I couldn’t have.” Her eyes clouded. “Poor Cinderpelt,” she whispered. “There was so much that was taken away from her . . .”

  Lionblaze flinched. I can’t take any more of this. “We’ll talk later,” he murmured to Cinderheart, then scrambled out from underneath the hazel bush and headed for the lake.

  When he reached the water’s edge he sat down and stared out over the tossing gray water. They’re so lucky, he thought moodily, picturing the life of the Clans going on all around the lake. They’re not tangled up in some dumb prophecy, or another cat coming back to life!

  “I don’t know what to do,” he whispered.

  Lionblaze wasn’t sure how long he had been sitting beside the lake when he heard paw steps approaching behind him. Hoping that Cinderheart had come to find him, he turned, and spotted Squirrelflight padding down the shore toward him.

  “Hi,” she mewed, sitting beside him. “Do you want to talk?”

  Squirrelflight was the last cat Lionblaze would have chosen to confide in, but his churning emotions wouldn’t let him stay silent.

  “It’s so unfair!” he burst out. “Not just for me, but for Cinderheart, too. She wanted to be a warrior, but now she’s convinced she has to be a medicine cat because some other cat was before.”

  Squirrelflight nodded. “All cats deserve to find happiness as a mate, and as a mother. I wouldn’t have changed anything about my life.”

  Lionblaze tensed, digging his claws into the ground. He knew what he wanted to say, but the words seemed stuck in his throat like a hard piece of fresh-kill, and were just as difficult to dislodge.

  “You were a good mother,” he admitted at last, thinking longingly of the time when he had been young, when he and his littermates had believed that Squirrelflight and Brambleclaw were really their parents. The tension in his shoulders relaxed as he let go of the long-held grudge. “You should have kits with Brambleclaw.”

  “That’s not going to happen.” Squirrelflight sighed. More briskly she added, “And perhaps it’s for the best that it never did. But I loved you and Jayfeather and Hollyleaf just as much as if I’d given birth to you myself, and it breaks my heart to see you unhappy.”

  Lionblaze turned his head to meet her brilliant green gaze. “I think Cinderheart is unhappier than any of us,” he meowed.

  Chapter 20

  “Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey join here beneath the Highledge for a Clan meeting!”

  At the sound of Firestar’s voice Dovewing sprang up from the fresh-kill pile and gazed up at the Highledge. Firestar was sitting there with Brambleclaw beside him.

  Although it was the height of greenleaf, the sky was covered with clouds. A chill, restless breeze rustled the trees above the stone hollow and ruffled Firestar’s flame-colored pelt. To Dovewing the murmuring of the leaves seemed to echo the murmuring within ThunderClan. She hardly needed her special senses to pick up the gossip.

  “Did you hear that Cinderheart used to be Cinderpelt?”

  “Yeah, and Leafpool and Jayfeather knew all along!”

  “I can’t believe that Sorreltail didn’t realize. She and Cinderpelt were good friends, right?”

  “They do look a bit alike. But how weird that Cinderheart knows all about that medicine cat stuff!”

  Dovewing closed down her senses and blocked out the whispering. “This meeting must be about WindClan,” she meowed to Ivypool, her heart beginning to pound with anticipation.

  Her sister swallowed her last mouthful of blackbird, then led the way closer to the Highledge. She was moving awkwardly; Dovewing guessed that she had been injured in the Dark Forest, but as usual Ivypool was refusing to talk about it. Foxleap, Molepaw, Rosepetal, and Hazeltail came to sit beside them, while Dustpelt, Graystripe, and Millie settled a couple of tail-lengths away. Mousewhisker and Cherrypaw emerged from the medicine cat’s den and joined the crowd on shaky legs, flopping down to listen beside Poppyfrost and Berrynose. Jayfeather and Briarlight remained beside the bramble screen.

  “Everything is so strange right now,” Dovewing muttered as yet more cats appeared from the warriors’ den. “Hollyleaf coming back, Cinderheart being a cat that everyone thought was dead—”

  “And a medicine cat, at that,” Ivypool added. “With all Cinderpelt’s memories and skills.”

  Hazeltail leaned closer. “So does that mean we have two medicine cats now?” she whispered.

  “I guess we do,” Mousewhisker agreed.

  Ivypool shook her head. “Like you said, it’s strange. She was my mentor!”

  “Surely we need warriors more than another medicine cat?” Foxleap mewed.

  “That’s enough,” came a gruff voice behind them. Dovewing had been so intent on what her Clanmates were saying that she hadn’t noticed Brackenfur had joined them. He flicked Foxleap’s ear with his tail. “Firestar is waiting to speak.”

  While the last scraps of conversation died away, Dove-wing spotted Hollyleaf by herself at the edge of the crowd. She looked awkward and self-conscious.

  There’s been a lot of gossip about her, too, Dovewing thought. It’s only dying down now because there’s something else to talk about.

  When Hollyleaf had first returned, Dovewing had tried to avoid her, nervous of getting too close to a cat who had killed a Clanmate, even if it had been an accident. But now she felt a stab of sympathy for the black she-cat.

  Maybe Firestar’s right, and she’s been punished more than enough for not speaking up at the time. After all, no cat is blaming Brambleclaw, and he saw it happen!

  Dovewing was about to go and sit beside Hollyleaf to give her support, when she saw another cat slip out of the warriors’ den: Cinderheart. The gray she-cat padded across to Hollyleaf; without speaking she inclined her head toward Hollyleaf’s until their ears touched.

  “I see the odd ones are sticking together,” Foxleap commented.

  “That’s enough!” Millie hissed. “Don’t speak like that about your Clanmates.”

  Foxleap ducked his head, embarrassed.

  “Cinderheart was Hollyleaf’s best friend before she . . . went away,” Millie continued. “And now they have something in common, a big secret revealed. They should be treated with kindness, nothing else.”

  “Well, Millie, you should know what it’s like to be the odd one out. Having been a kittypet and all.”

 
Dovewing’s head whipped around as she tried to find the source of the whisper, but she couldn’t spot which cat had spoken. So many rumors and secrets, she thought with a shiver, wondering what else might be revealed. Her gaze fell once more on Ivypool, who was flexing one foreleg as if she were testing its strength. Definitely a Dark Forest injury, Dovewing decided. That’s one secret that must be kept whatever happens.

  Firestar rose to his paws. “I have grave news,” he began, “and I’ve decided to share it with the Clan after discussing it with Brambleclaw and the senior warriors. I know you’re all curious about the extra patrols, and the fact that I’ve forbidden you to hunt along the WindClan border. It seems that Sol has betrayed us; he’s planning an attack with cats from WindClan.”

  “What?” Mousefur screeched, shakily struggling to her paws from where she was sitting at the entrance to the elders’ den, with Purdy beside her. “Didn’t I tell you that cat was trouble?”

  Several cats had jumped to their feet along with Mousefur, letting out caterwauls of shock and defiance. Dovewing glanced around at the cats she had overheard plotting with Sol, and noticed that Hazeltail and Rosepetal were exchanging horrified glances, while Blossomfall’s jaws were gaping in utter shock. Mousewhisker was on his paws with the rest. “Traitor! Mange-pelt!” he yowled.

  Dovewing narrowed her eyes. Maybe you’re just as furious as you seem, she thought. And maybe you’re not. But you’d better not put a paw wrong now, because I’ll be watching.

  “Mouse-brains!” Ivypool muttered with an icy glare. “They’re lucky we never told Firestar what you heard.”

  “Thank StarClan Sol left, and they never got pulled deeper in,” Dovewing responded in a whisper.

  Firestar waited until the worst of the noise had died down.

  “I can’t say I’m surprised to hear what Sol is up to,” he went on. “It explains why he hasn’t shown himself here in the hollow for the last few sunrises.”

  “He’d better stay away if he knows what’s good for him,” Thornclaw growled.

  “We have to attack WindClan now!” Cloudtail’s neck fur fluffed up as he spoke, and several other warriors caterwauled in agreement.