The Forgotten Warrior

  “Dawnpelt, I was there when your brother died,” he began. There was an edge to his voice, telling Lionblaze of his resentment that he had to defend himself in public over such an absurd accusation. “But I was trying to save him. That I failed is a tragedy for all of us.” His voice shook on the last few words and he paused until he could go on steadily. “I had no reason to want him dead. And the water would have killed him on its own; he didn’t need me as well.”

  Muttering rose from the ShadowClan cats around Dawnpelt. “Are you sure you weren’t just helping the water kill him?” Ratscar called out.

  “The medicine cats have been very separate recently,” Rowanclaw, the ShadowClan deputy, added more thoughtfully. “Is their code changing? Are they even still allied across Clan borders?” He stared straight at Jayfeather. “Perhaps Flametail knew too much about you?”

  Lionblaze stiffened. Do any other cats know about the prophecy? I never thought of that!

  “Enough!” Firestar ordered from his place in the Great Oak. “This accusation is groundless! Jayfeather could have drowned in that water just as easily as Flametail. He risked his own life by going to help him. Surely no cat takes this accusation seriously?” Firestar gazed around at Mistystar, Blackstar, and Onestar. All three Clan leaders were looking uncomfortable.

  “I find it hard to believe that any cat would do something like this,” Mistystar mewed.

  Onestar nodded. “I’m sure Jayfeather could have found an easier way to eliminate an enemy.”

  Blackstar said nothing at all.

  That’s hardly the best defense they could come up with! Lionblaze thought angrily. But when he looked back at Dawnpelt, he saw that she had begun to look small and uncomfortable, as if the force of her accusation was ebbing like floodwaters after the rain is over.

  While Firestar still waited, as if he were hoping that Blackstar would speak, Tigerheart rose to his paws from the clearing below.

  “I believe what my sister says,” he announced. “Jayfeather murdered our littermate, and he must be punished.”

  Beside Lionblaze, Dovewing drew in her breath in a gasp of horror.

  “I will punish no cat for a crime that cannot be proved,” Firestar answered coldly.

  “It’s not a case of not being proved,” Dovewing hissed. “Jayfeather didn’t do it!”

  “But it’s hard to ignore the accusation,” Onestar meowed in response to Firestar. To do the WindClan leader justice, Lionblaze thought, he sounded reluctant, as if his respect for Jayfeather as a medicine cat outweighed his hostility toward ThunderClan. “Firestar, perhaps you should suspend Jayfeather from medicine cat duties until he has proven his innocence.”

  Mistystar dipped her head in agreement. “That would be sensible. With StarClan’s help, it might not take long.”

  Lionblaze noticed that the other medicine cats had suddenly started to talk among themselves, their heads close together as quick meows passed from one to another. Then Littlecloud, the ShadowClan medicine cat, rose to his paws.

  “We agree to this, too,” he announced, his voice regretful as he looked at Jayfeather. “Without determining the truth, this accusation could poison the Clans for seasons, like an infected wound.”

  “Then how do you propose finding out what happened?” Brambleclaw challenged him. “It’s impossible, unless Flame-tail returns to tell us himself. Have any of you seen him in dreams?”

  The medicine cats conferred together quickly, then Littlecloud shook his head.

  “I’ve seen Flametail,” Ivypool confessed, leaning closer to Dovewing to murmur into her ear. Lionblaze could just pick up her quiet words. “But he’s in StarClan, not the Dark Forest.”

  “Did you ask him if Jayfeather killed him?” Dovewing whispered back.

  “No!” Ivypool’s eyes stretched wide in astonishment. “Why would I ask him a thing like that?”

  All the other medicine cats turned toward Jayfeather; Lionblaze could see that his brother was trying not to flinch. Though Jayfeather couldn’t see them, he would be able to feel the force of their attention, all focused on him.

  “Surrendering your duties is the only honorable thing to do,” Littlecloud meowed. He sounded helpless; Dovewing guessed that he was torn between his dismay at the accusation and the horror he felt that it might be true.

  Jayfeather’s head jerked up. “But we walk alone now, don’t we?” His voice was clear and steady. “I know you’ve all had visits from your ancestors, telling you that each Clan must look to its own future. You have no right to tell me what to do! I shall remain as ThunderClan’s medicine cat!”

  There were gasps from the clearing as Jayfeather defied his fellow medicine cats. Dawnpelt looked furious. Her jaws were open to protest when lightning crackled down from the sky, splitting the night. Its pale light outlined the pine trees and the bushes that surrounded the clearing, and rimmed the leaves of the great oak with a line of silver.

  Lionblaze shuddered as the lightning was followed by a massive crash of thunder, so loud that it sounded as if the ground beneath his pads were cracking apart. A sharp wind rose, thrashing through the leaves and flattening the cats’ fur to their sides. Clouds blotted out the moon.

  In the darkness one of the cats wailed, “StarClan is angry!”

  Then rain poured out of the sky, an icy curtain sweeping across the clearing. Lionblaze’s fur was soaked within the first heartbeats. The cats let out wails of shock and terror as they began to flee for cover.

  From the Great Oak Lionblaze heard Firestar’s voice ring out. “Home, quickly!”

  The Gathering broke up in chaos as cats fled through the bushes, heading for the tree-bridge. Lionblaze sprang across the clearing, making for the spot where he had last seen his brother.

  “Jayfeather!” he yowled. “Over here!”

  To his relief lightning flashed out again; by its light he spotted Jayfeather struggling toward him around a knot of terrified WindClan cats. He looked skinnier than ever, his tabby fur plastered to his body.

  “Let’s get out of here,” Lionblaze muttered, thrusting through the crowd of cats to his brother’s side.

  As they turned toward the bushes Dawnpelt bounded past them, halting for a heartbeat to hiss at Jayfeather. “This is not over!”

  Trying to force a way out of the clearing, Lionblaze realized that the cats had divided along battle lines as suddenly as the lightning had struck. Clan snarled at Clan, their claws extended and their lips drawn back to reveal sharp teeth. Their leaders yowled for control, but between fear and anger their warriors ignored them.

  Lionblaze halted for a heartbeat to look up at the veiled moon. Great StarClan! The Clans are turning on one another, just when we need to stand side by side against a greater enemy than anything we have ever faced before!

  Chapter 24

  Thunder crashed overhead as Jayfeather raced back along the shore. His mind was whirling so much that he kept stumbling, blinder than usual. Somewhere in the chaos he had lost Lionblaze, and the pelting rain smothered his senses. He wasn’t even sure where he was.

  Through his confusion he realized that another cat was bounding at his side, matching him stride for stride. Squirrelflight’s voice spoke in his ear. “Here, lean on me. Let me guide you.”

  Jayfeather’s instinct was to hiss at her to leave him alone. But her pressure on his side was too comforting, supporting him through the tumult of his thoughts.

  How could Dawnpelt think I killed Flametail? I nearly drowned myself—I would have died if it hadn’t been for Rock, forcing me to let Flametail sink into the depths. He shuddered, and almost tripped over a boulder.

  “Steady,” Squirrelflight warned. “Come farther this way.” After a moment she murmured into his ear, “Don’t worry, no cat believes Dawnpelt. She’s been driven mad by grief, that’s all.”

  Jayfeather wasn’t convinced. Then why did they want me to give up being a medicine cat? The Clans are too eager to believe the worst of one another just now.


  Back in the stone hollow, Jayfeather headed for his den. Though the torrential rain had eased off, his pelt was drenched and he was utterly miserable, each paw step a massive effort. But before he reached the screen of brambles, he heard Firestar splashing up to him through the puddles that had formed on the floor of the hollow.

  “Get some rest,” his Clan leader ordered. “We’ll discuss this in the morning. But don’t doubt the loyalty of any of your Clanmates. We’ll defend you whatever happens.”

  Firestar’s voice was bone-weary, and Jayfeather wondered if he was tired of his cats being accused of murder. He gave Firestar a brief nod and brushed past the brambles into his den.

  “Hi,” Briarlight greeted him, raising herself in her nest. “How was the Gathering? Did any cat mention Sol? What did the other Clans think about Hollyleaf coming back?”

  “Disastrous, no, and not impressed,” Jayfeather listed, making for his nest and collapsing into it.

  “Okay.” Briarlight sounded puzzled rather than offended. Jayfeather heard her dragging herself across to him, and tensed at the feeling of her tongue licking his sodden fur. “It’s obvious that something’s wrong. Let me look after you for once,” she mewed.

  Jayfeather was too exhausted to protest; he was already sliding into sleep. He opened his eyes to find himself in a sunny clearing, the air warm and filled with delicious prey-scent. A ruffled gray she-cat was sitting on a fallen tree trunk, waiting for him.

  “Oh, no!” Jayfeather groaned. “Not you again!”

  “Show a bit of respect,” Yellowfang snapped, jumping down from the tree trunk and padding across to him. “It’s all happening now,” she continued. “But don’t worry. No cat in StarClan thinks you murdered Flametail.”

  Oh, great! Jayfeather thought. I’m so glad. It’s a pity that doesn’t help me much, isn’t it? He wondered if any of the StarClan warriors had seen Rock with him in the lake when Flametail died, but before he could ask, Yellowfang turned on him with a lash of her tail.

  “What were you thinking, letting Cinderheart give up her warrior duties to become a second medicine cat? That’s not what StarClan wanted!”

  “Hey, hang on!” Jayfeather leaped out of range of her claws. “It was you who told me to walk in Cinderheart’s dreams and show her that she used to be Cinderpelt. You said ThunderClan needed a second medicine cat. Don’t start blaming me now because I did what you wanted.”

  “Yes . . . well . . .” Jayfeather’s eyes stretched wide in amazement as he realized that Yellowfang was embarrassed. “I . . . er . . . might have got that wrong,” she admitted, not meeting his gaze. “I was thinking too much about ThunderClan’s needs. Cinderheart’s destiny is to be a warrior.”

  Some StarClan cats must have told her off about this, Jayfeather realized, suppressing a purr of laughter. Wow, I wish I’d been a bird on a branch when that conversation was going on!

  “Cinderheart is confused,” he meowed. “She doesn’t know who she is.”

  “Then you must show her that she is a warrior, nothing else,” Yellowfang told him.

  “It might be useful to have a second medicine cat when the final battle comes,” Jayfeather mused. “But I guess Cinderheart can still use her knowledge of herbs and medicine, even if she is a warrior. Like Leafpool does.”

  Yellowfang let out a hiss, her embarrassment completely gone. “What did I tell you about Leafpool? She is not allowed to use her medicine cat skills anymore, and neither can Cinderheart, if she chooses to be a warrior.”

  Jayfeather’s irritation spilled over. “If you don’t mind my saying so,” he snapped, “that’s just a load of badger droppings. Leafpool helped Cherrypaw and Mousewhisker when they accidentally ate hemlock, and nothing bad happened because of it. Okay, no cat expects StarClan to send her messages for the Clan in her dreams anymore, but why should she forget what she knows? There’s nothing secret about using marigold to fight infection or juniper berries for bellyache! Most of the cats in the Clan know that.”

  Yellowfang’s tangled gray fur had begun to bristle. “Who are you to tell StarClan what a medicine cat may or may not do?”

  “I am a cat who cares for his Clan!” Jayfeather hissed back. “I’m not going to tell Cinderheart or Leafpool to ignore what they know when they might be able to save lives.”

  Yellowfang’s shoulders sagged suddenly; she looked weary and discouraged. “Perhaps StarClan underestimated the strength of Cinderpelt’s spirit to survive,” she admitted, “and carry on her loyalty to her medicine cat duties. Cinderheart will have to make her own choice, medicine cat or warrior. She has the right to choose her destiny.”

  “What, and I don’t?” Jayfeather muttered.

  “Because of the prophecy?” Yellowfang retorted, her momentary weakness vanishing. “That’s different. It has nothing to do with StarClan. It was decided long ago, by cats who have been forgotten more moons back than you can possibly imagine. We have waited a long time for this moment, Jayfeather. And now the moment has nearly come.”

  Jayfeather still felt exhausted when he woke, depressed by his memories of the Gathering: the accusation, the turmoil, and the storm. He let out a long sigh, trying to summon up the energy to climb out of his nest.

  “Here.” Briarlight dropped a mouse in front of his nose. “Eat!” she prompted when Jayfeather did no more than sniff it.

  He thought of protesting that he wasn’t hungry, but he knew that Briarlight would nag him until he had finished every scrap of the fresh-kill. “Thanks,” he mumbled, taking a bite. His jaws watered at the taste of the juices, and he realized how hungry he was.

  “I heard what happened at the Gathering,” Briarlight went on. “I’m really sorry. Surely no cat will believe what Dawnpelt said?”

  “I don’t know,” Jayfeather replied between mouthfuls. “Strange things are happening in all the Clans, so why shouldn’t one medicine cat murder another?”

  “Because that would never happen,” Briarlight insisted. “Especially not you.”

  Jayfeather was touched by her loyalty. “Go and visit the nursery,” he told her, running his tongue over his whiskers to capture the last scraps of mouse. “See how Sorreltail’s kits are doing.”

  “Okay.” Jayfeather could tell Briarlight was pleased to be given the task. “But what about Cinderheart?” She sounded baffled and uncertain.

  “I need to talk to her today,” Jayfeather meowed. “You go to the nursery.”

  As soon as Jayfeather headed out of his den, he located Cinderheart padding toward him. Her pawsteps were weary, dragging on the ground. Behind her, the first patrols were leaving the clearing. Hollyleaf was leading another underground training group.

  “We’ve had to wait so long to go into the tunnels!” Molepaw meowed, bubbling over with excitement. “I don’t care how dark and scary the others say it is. I’m not scared.”

  “Neither am I.” Cherrypaw was bouncing on her paws. “I’m going to be the best underground fighter in ThunderClan.”

  “You are not! I am!” her brother insisted, and the two apprentices rolled over in a scuffle.

  “That’s enough,” Foxleap growled. “Or Hollyleaf won’t take you down there at all.”

  Molepaw and Cherrypaw instantly sprang to their paws; Jayfeather could picture them with head and tail erect as they followed Hollyleaf and their mentors out of the camp.

  “Don’t tell me I should be going out with the patrols,” Cinderheart sighed as Jayfeather padded up to her.

  How many cats have been telling you that you shouldn’t be a medicine cat? Jayfeather wondered, picking up her defensiveness, but he didn’t ask the question aloud. Instead, he mewed, “I’m not going to tell you what to do. Come for a walk with me.”

  Branches rustled gently over their heads as Jayfeather and Cinderheart headed for the lake. As the end of greenleaf approached, the leaves smelled tired, sap-heavy, and dusty. Some of Jayfeather’s weariness faded as he sat beside the lake, enjoying the fresh breeze that blew off the water.


  “Try to think of it this way,” he began. “You should feel very lucky. StarClan has given you the chance to choose your own destiny: to be a warrior, a mate, a mother—all the things that you were denied as Cinderpelt.”

  “But is it a real choice?” Cinderheart asked miserably. “What about my duty to my Clan?”

  “There are many ways to fulfill your duty,” Jayfeather murmured.

  Cinderheart turned to him; he could feel the force of her gaze. “It’s true, I’m lucky to be here at all!” she burst out. “I know what a debt I owe to my ancestors. But I’m so confused. . . . I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

  “What do you want?” Jayfeather asked quietly.

  He felt a small start of surprise from Cinderheart, as if no cat had ever asked her that before.

  “I wanted Lionblaze,” she whispered. “But I can’t have him.”

  “Oh? Really?” Great StarClan, mouse-brain, he’s been padding after you for moons! “Why not?”

  “Because of his destiny,” Cinderheart replied.

  Jayfeather gave an awkward wriggle; he wasn’t comfortable discussing another cat’s relationship problems. But he remembered Half Moon, and felt again the piercing pain he had suffered when he realized that he couldn’t stay with her in her long-ago Tribe.

  “You have a destiny, too,” he mewed gently. “But that isn’t the whole of who you are. You can still shape your own life.”

  Cinderheart was silent for a long time; Jayfeather could sense a tiny seed of hope stirring inside her.

  “You have a chance to be happy,” he prompted, “and to make Lionblaze happy, too. Don’t throw that away because you spent too long trying to figure out the right thing to do.”

  “Thank you, Jayfeather,” Cinderheart responded with a long sigh.

  Together they sat on the bank overlooking the lake; Jayfeather could hear the soft lapping of the water on the pebbly shore. For a few moments he and Cinderheart seemed to be wrapped in a cocoon of peace.