by Erin Hunter
Leafpool’s anger flashed against his pelt. “What are you doing here?”
“I-I—”
“This is a place for medicine cats! I came here to share tongues with StarClan!”
“I know.” Jaypaw gulped. “I saw you.”
“You saw me with StarClan?”
“I was watching from the top of the ridge while you were talking to Bluestar and Lionheart.”
Leafpool looked stunned. “You were watching? How?”
“When I closed my eyes, that’s what I dreamed. That’s all.”
Leafpool narrowed her eyes. “What did they say?”
“Bluestar said that Firestar must make his own decision,”
Jaypaw mewed. “But he should use his head, not his heart, which I suppose means he should choose—”
“You understood!” Leafpool cut in. Her mew came in a shocked whisper.
Jaypaw was puzzled. Why wouldn’t he understand? Was it because he wasn’t a medicine cat? Or because he was blind?
“How did you find your way here?” Leafpool asked.
Jaypaw sensed wariness prick the medicine cat’s pelt, as though she were afraid of his answer. “I followed you. . . .”
“You followed my scent, do you mean? All the way from the hollow?”
“Partly. But I’d dreamed of the journey before, so I knew how it looked.”
Leafpool gasped.
“I can’t help what I dream!” Jaypaw protested.
Leafpool turned away. “Something extraordinary has happened here.” Her words were little more than a murmur, half spoken to herself, but they echoed off the water. “I just wish I knew what it meant.”
“Why should it mean anything?” Jaypaw mewed. What was so odd about having a dream at the Moonpool? Wasn’t that what it was there for?
“Come,” Leafpool ordered. “We should return to camp.”
Briskness masked the confusion flooding from her. She padded up the path to the top of the ridge, and Jaypaw followed. He let her guide him down the rocky slope beyond, though he had a clear enough sense of it now to manage by himself.
“Are you going to tell Firestar everything StarClan said?”
he mewed.
“I’ll tell him he must make his own choice about who is deputy.”
“And that’s all?”
“What do you mean?”
“I think Tallstar and Bluestar hinted that Firestar should
choose Brambleclaw. He’s the one who knows the Clan best now.” Jaypaw’s nose twitched. He could smell mouse.
“Are you saying that I should influence Firestar’s decision?”
“You’d only be interpreting what they really meant.” The mouse was close. “Isn’t that your duty?”
Jaypaw felt Leafpool’s startled gaze like sunlight on his pelt. “Is that what you would do?”
“I would do what was best for the Clan.” A pebble moved just in front of his paws. He darted forward and slapped his forepaws down, only to find that the mouse had escaped into its burrow. He lifted his muzzle, disappointed.
Leafpool had stopped. Fear seemed to enfold her like a cloud. Had he done something wrong?
“What’s up?”
“Nothing,” she replied, and padded on.
Jaypaw hurried after her.
“You know, that was pretty amazing what you did back there,” she meowed. Her light tone didn’t hide the anxiety sparking from her—or was it excitement? Why was she so edgy?
Jaypaw shrugged. “Aren’t you supposed to see stuff like that at the Moonpool?”
“But this wasn’t any old dream. You actually entered my dream. You saw what I saw.”
“So?”
“I have entered another cat’s dream only once.”
“When?” Jaypaw asked.
“Feathertail led me into Willowpaw’s dream so that I could tell her where to find catmint,” Leafpool explained.
“But Feathertail was already with StarClan. She invited me in. You entered my dream on your own, without the permission or knowledge of StarClan.”
With a shudder Jaypaw remembered the fierce stare of the broad-faced warrior. “Are you sure they didn’t know?”
“They would have told me,” Leafpool meowed.
“Why did you call Cinderpelt’s name?” Jaypaw asked. “Was there something you wanted to ask her?”
“I just wanted to know if she was there,” Leafpool mewed quietly.
“She didn’t answer.”
“No, she didn’t.”
“But she’s dead, right? Where else could she be?”
Jaypaw heard Leafpool’s pawsteps halt. She was expectant, anxious; he could feel it like rain in the air. “What did you feel when you saw StarClan?” she asked. “Were you scared?”
“Scared of a bunch of dead cats?”
“They are your warrior ancestors,” she reminded him. “They have seen and heard more than you could ever imagine.”
“Of course they’ve seen more—I’m blind, remember?”
“You’re not blind in your dreams, Jaypaw. Tell me, apart from the journey to the Moonpool, have you ever dreamed of anything else that has come true?”
Jaypaw shrugged. “Not really. Dreams are just dreams, aren’t they?”
“Not to every cat.”
“Sometimes I dream about when I was very small, traveling through snow,” he confessed. “Is that right? That wasn’t the Great Journey, was it?”
Tension crackled through Leafpool’s fur. “No, the Great Journey was long before you were born. But your . . . your mother did make a long journey with you through the snow when you were very small. You were born outside the hollow, and she had to wait until you were all strong enough to travel.”
Jaypaw could feel Leafpool staring at him, turning something over in her mind, like a fish too huge to be hooked out of the water. “What is it?” he asked.
“I think that you were destined to be a medicine cat,” she meowed.
“Don’t be silly,” Jaypaw retorted. “I’m going to be a warrior.”
“But you entered my dream,” Leafpool pointed out.
Jaypaw’s tail shot up indignantly. “You think I want to be stuck in camp worrying over kits and elders?”
Leafpool bristled. “There’s more to being a medicine cat than that!”
“If there is,” Jaypaw snapped, “let it be some other cat’s destiny! I want to be out in the forest, hunting and fighting for my Clan. You’re just like Brightheart! Always treating me differently just because I’m blind!”
“I’m treating you differently because you can see StarClan in my dreams! I don’t know of any medicine cat with visions as powerful as that.”
But Jaypaw didn’t want to listen anymore. He padded
angrily ahead. “I don’t care about having stupid dreams,” he called over his shoulder. “I’m going to be a warrior. Besides, you’ve already got Hollypaw, remember? You can’t have two medicine cat apprentices!”
Chapter 14
“Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather below Highledge!”
Lionpaw jerked up his head. Firestar’s call had woken him from his warm nest. It was dawn, and he could feel Berrypaw stirring beside him.
Jaypaw was already stretching, curling his tail back till the tip brushed his spine. “What does Firestar want so early?” he yawned.
“Clan meeting!” Lionpaw leaped to his paws. He hurried to be first out of the den, squeezing ahead of his denmates.
“Stop pushing,” Berrypaw complained.
“The fastest hunter catches the most mice,” Lionpaw mewed cheerfully.
The air outside the den hit him like the lash of a birch sapling. Frost glittered on the bushes around the edge of the camp, and the icy ground made Lionpaw’s pads ache. Breath billowing, he trotted into the clearing, where the cats were already gathering, huddling close for warmth.
Firestar sat on Highledge flanked by Brambleclaw and
Graystripe. Brambleclaw�
�s pelt shone, the muscles beneath it taut. Graystripe’s pelt was well-groomed, the knots and tangles smoothed at last, but it was dull and his ribs still showed beneath.
“He must have decided who the deputy should be,”
Hollypaw mewed, hurrying over from the medicine den and sitting down next to Lionpaw. She wriggled closer to him, shivering.
Jaypaw padded to join them, sitting beside Hollypaw.
“Graystripe and Brambleclaw are on Highledge with Firestar,” Hollypaw told him.
“I know,” Jaypaw answered sleepily. Lionpaw wondered why he looked so worn-out when he had not been outside the hollow in days.
Firestar’s pelt glowed like fire in the cold dawn light as he gazed over the Clan. Millie settled beside Ferncloud, her eyes round with curiosity. Sorreltail, Whitewing, and Cloudtail sat in front of her, Brackenfur and Thornclaw behind. The gray kittypet no longer seemed intimidated by the warriors hem-ming her in and stared calmly up at Firestar.
“I know you’ve all been wondering what will happen now that our previous deputy has returned,” the Clan leader began.
Graystripe wrapped his bushy tail tighter over his front paws. One of Brambleclaw’s ears twitched.
“When we left the forest, I thought I would never see Graystripe again,” Firestar confessed. “There were many
nights when I stared up at Silverpelt and tried to imagine him among our ancestors.”
Lionpaw glanced at Hollypaw and wondered what it would be like to lose her. He didn’t like the feeling that stabbed at his belly.
The ThunderClan leader went on. “Graystripe was my deputy and my friend. I trained with him and fought with him. I trusted him more than any cat. Having him back is like having one of my own lives restored.”
“He’s going to make Graystripe deputy again!” Hollypaw hissed under her breath.
“Wait,” Jaypaw warned.
Lionpaw shot his brother a look. Why did he sound so certain?
“But Brambleclaw has helped me lead the Clan through some of its most terrifying challenges. I’ve never seen him waver in his loyalty to his Clanmates. The last thing ThunderClan needs now is more change.” He paused and glanced at the two warriors. “So I’ve decided that Brambleclaw should remain deputy.”
“But—” The gasp escaped Brackenfur before he could stop it. Sorreltail echoed it, and mews of surprise rippled around the Clan. Lionpaw searched Graystripe’s face for some sign of regret, but he couldn’t read the gray warrior’s expression.
Squirrelflight raised her voice happily. “Brambleclaw!”
“Brambleclaw! Brambleclaw!” Ashfur quickly joined in.
Squirrelflight whipped her head around and stared at him.
Why does she look surprised? Lionpaw wondered.
Dustpelt and Thornclaw started calling Brambleclaw’s name too. Graystripe got to his paws and joined in, and Brambleclaw dipped his head respectfully to the former ThunderClan deputy.
“Told you so,” Jaypaw murmured.
Lionpaw glanced suspiciously at his brother. “How did you know?”
Jaypaw shrugged. “It was the wisest choice.”
“Do you think Graystripe minds?” Hollypaw whispered.
“Does it matter?” Jaypaw asked.
“He must know the Clan has changed a lot,” Lionpaw replied.
“But what about when he’s fully recovered?” Hollypaw persisted. “Will he be happy just being a warrior?”
“I think Firestar made the right decision.”
The meow made Lionpaw jump. He glanced up and saw Ashfur padding toward them.
“And you must be pleased that your father’s still deputy,”
the warrior purred.
“Brambleclaw should be deputy,” Lionpaw told him firmly.
“Graystripe doesn’t even know the territory yet. He’d be as lost as a WindClan kit in a ShadowClan nursery.”
“True.” Ashfur nodded.
“And Graystripe is going to take another moon to recover,”
Jaypaw put in. “He still smells of crow-food.”
“He’ll be strong soon,” Hollypaw mewed defensively.
“Soon isn’t good enough,” Lionpaw argued. “We need a strong deputy now. Leaf-bare’s clearly not finished with us, and ShadowClan is never going to make our life easy. We can’t afford to wait for Graystripe to recover.”
“But he was deputy first!” Hollypaw protested. “Has everyone forgotten? When Mistyfoot was taken by Twolegs, Hawkfrost replaced her only until she returned. Because according to the warrior code she never stopped being the deputy!”
“Your sister has a point,” Ashfur commented.
“I know, but”—Lionpaw was surprised at Hollypaw’s fierceness—“Firestar has to be practical.”
“If we start ignoring the warrior code, then we are no longer warriors!” Hollypaw declared. The fur along her spine was bristling, and her eyes glittered with anxiety.
“What if StarClan told Firestar to choose Brambleclaw?”
Jaypaw asked softly.
Brambleclaw was padding toward them, with Berrypaw beside him. “We’re going hunting.”
“Can we join you?” Ashfur asked.
“Of course. Brightheart and Jaypaw are coming too. But if you don’t mind a crowd—”
“Of course not.” Ashfur narrowed his eyes. “I just thought it might be fun for Lionpaw and Berrypaw to have a little competition.”
Brambleclaw’s eyes glittered. “Good idea.”
Berrypaw clawed the ground excitedly. “Oh, yes!”
“Great!” Lionpaw mewed.
“Okay,” Brambleclaw decided. “The first apprentice to catch three pieces of prey gets first pick from the fresh-kill pile tonight.”
Lionpaw glanced at Berrypaw. His denmate was larger than he and more experienced. He would have to rely more on senses than speed if he was going to win.
Brightheart and Jaypaw joined them.
“Why do we need to go with them?” Jaypaw was complaining. “I’m perfectly capable of hunting on my own.”
Pity flashed in Brightheart’s eye, and Lionpaw winced.
Jaypaw glared at his mentor as if he knew exactly what she was thinking.
“We’ll go in a moment,” Brambleclaw meowed. “First, I want to ask Dustpelt and Birchfall to patrol the ShadowClan border. I’ll meet you at the entrance.” Before he padded away, the ThunderClan deputy glanced at Hollypaw. “Shouldn’t you be helping Leafpool?”
“Um, yes,” Hollypaw mewed hastily. She turned and slunk away, the tip of her black tail dragging over the ice-white clearing.
“So you think you can beat me, do you?” Berrypaw hissed in Lionpaw’s ear.
“I caught a vole on my first hunting expedition,” Lionpaw reminded him.
“Good,” Berrypaw mewed. “I’d hate to win too easily.”
“You’ll be lucky to win at all!” Lionpaw growled.
“How’s a tiny scrap like you going to catch three bits of prey in one morning?”
Lionpaw wasn’t going to let his denmate get away with that. He crouched into attack position, wriggling his hindquarters. “Say that again!” he challenged.
“You’re hardly bigger than a mouse!” Berrypaw purred.
Lionpaw launched himself at the young tom, and the two apprentices bundled toward the thorn barrier.
Berrypaw’s weight took Lionpaw by surprise. He scrabbled to push the larger apprentice off, but Berrypaw heaved him toward the prickly spines of the thornbush. Thinking quickly, Lionpaw let himself go limp, becoming so slippery that it was easy to wriggle out of Berrypaw’s grip. Quick as a flash, he sprang onto Berrypaw’s back and nipped his friend’s scruff with his teeth. Berrypaw tried to shake him off, but even with his claws sheathed, Lionpaw found that he had the strength to hold his grip on Berrypaw’s broad shoulders.
“Lionpaw!”
He looked up to see his sister charging back toward them, and, in that instant, Berrypaw threw him off and pinned him to the grou
nd.
“You’re my first catch of the day,” Berrypaw mewed triumphantly.
“Hollypaw put me off!” Lionpaw complained.
“A good warrior is never distracted,” Ashfur meowed. The pale gray warrior had stopped to watch the two apprentices.
Lionpaw scrambled to his paws, prickling with embarrassment.
Hollypaw was trotting around them in circles. “Leafpool wants me to collect some tansy in case this cold weather brings whitecough,” she panted excitedly. “She says there’s a clump by the old Thunderpath, and she asked if I could join your patrol to fetch some.” She looked around. “Where’s Brambleclaw?”
“Giving orders to Dustpelt,” Ashfur answered.
As he spoke, Brambleclaw bounded over from halfrock.
Graystripe was with him.
“Mind if I join you?” the gray warrior asked Ashfur. “I want to get familiar with the territory and see how the prey runs here.”
“That’s fine with me,” Ashfur agreed. He nodded at Hollypaw. “We’ve got an extra apprentice, too.”
Lionpaw hadn’t been out with both Hollypaw and Jaypaw since their attempt to track down the fox cubs. They quickly fell into their familiar grouping: Hollypaw a pawstep ahead, and Lionpaw letting his pelt brush against Jaypaw’s just enough to help him through the trees.
They headed deep into the forest, picking up the clearest route along the old Thunderpath. Lionpaw had been along it before, when Ashfur had shown him around ThunderClan territory. But he had never followed it all the way past the abandoned Twoleg nest.
Hollypaw was scanning the undergrowth on either side of the track.
“It looks a lot like yarrow,” Jaypaw whispered to her. “But it tastes more like grass than mouse bile.”
“I know!” Hollypaw snapped.
Why was Jaypaw helping her? Lionpaw wondered. Hollypaw was the medicine cat apprentice, not him.
She flicked her tail toward a clump of long-stemmed plants with thin, spiky leaves. “That’s it, isn’t it?”
“Have you found some?” Brambleclaw halted in the mid-dle of the path.
The cats waited as Hollypaw bit into a leaf. She narrowed her eyes thoughtfully, then swallowed.
“Not bitter at all,” she reported. “It’s tansy.”
