Night Whispers

Shock pulsed from the young cat. “We couldn’t! They’re part of the Clan. It’s our duty to look after them.” Her nest rustled beneath her paws. “Besides, the Clan wouldn’t be the same without them.”

Jayfeather left a small silence for her to hear her own words. Then he mewed, “Do you think the Clan would be the same without you?”

She didn’t answer.

“The Clan brings you fresh-kill because they think you deserve it, and because looking after their Clanmates is what makes them warriors. They are proud to help you.”

“I just wish there was something I could do to help them back.” Emotion choked Briarlight’s mew.

“Okay.” Jayfeather sat up. “Come on. Out of that nest.”

Fur brushed twigs as Briarlight hauled herself out.

“If helping look after Molekit and Cherrykit isn’t enough work for you, there’s plenty you can do here.” He swept his tail around the medicine den. “I like to keep balls of moss piled beside the pool so that I can soak them if I need water for washing wounds or quenching the thirst of a sick cat. Brightheart usually brings me fresh moss every few days. From now on it’s your job to check it for splinters or thorns, then divide it into balls and stack it by the pool.”

“Okay.” Jayfeather felt Briarlight’s spirits lifting. “What else?”

“Keep the den floor clean,” he ordered. “We have just about every cat in the Clan coming and going at the moment. My herbs seem to get everywhere. Sweep out any dirt and paw up all stray leaves and pile them next to my store.”

“No problem.”

“And I need to go through my supplies and see what’s running low,” Jayfeather went on. “You can help me.” He padded to the crack in the rock at the back of the den. Sliding into the chilly cleft, he called over his shoulder, “I’ll pass them out; you stack them by the wall. We can go through them together.”

He began to shove out bundle after bundle of herbs. Many were dry and crumbled in his paws. Reaching to the back, he felt something downy beneath his paw. Hooking it with his claw, he pulled out a scrap of fur. He sniffed it, his heart quickening. Hollyleaf! How had her fur gotten here? Had she returned from the dead?

Don’t be mouse-brained!

She’d been Leafpool’s apprentice once. It must have lodged in a corner then and been there ever since. The warm familiar scent of his sister flooded his heart. For a moment he was back in the nursery, squirming and fighting with Lionkit and Hollykit while Ferncloud sniffed disapprovingly.

Catch this, Jaykit!

Hollykit’s a slow slug!

“Jayfeather?” A voice summoned him from his thoughts.

“That’s all there is, Briarlight.” Jayfeather tucked Hollyleaf’s fur into a crack in the rock.

“Jayfeather!” the voice called again.

“Start piling the matching leaves together, Briarlight. I’ll be out in a moment.”

“Jayfeather.” This time warm breath stirred his ear fur.

He jumped around, his pelt scraping the rock. No one was there. Yet the scent of another cat hung heavy in the air.

Yellowfang!

He squeezed out of the cleft. Briarlight was beside the far wall, sifting through the herbs. “I’m matching the leaves,” she called.

“Good, good.” Jayfeather circled warily, tasting the air. The frosty chill was thick with her scent. Why had Yellowfang come here? It was half-moon. He’d be sharing dreams with her at the Moonpool tonight. Why come now?

“Come with me.” Her rasping mew sounded behind him. “Don’t worry; no one can hear me except you.”

“What are you doing here?” he hissed.

“Visiting you.”

Briarlight paused. “What did you say?”

“Nothing,” Jayfeather meowed hurriedly. “I—I’ve got to go out for a while. Keep matching the leaves. I’ll be back soon.” He followed Yellowfang’s scent out of the den and across the clearing.

“Couldn’t you have waited till tonight?” he snapped once they were clear of the hollow.

“Do you think I wanted to leave StarClan and come to this freezing place?”

A faint outline shimmered in front of Jayfeather’s eyes. He could see Yellowfang’s ragged pelt now, and the fuzzy outlines of trees behind her.

“Then why did you come?” Jayfeather’s paws ached from the snow.

“You needed to know this before you met with the others at the Moonpool!”

“Okay, okay,” Jayfeather muttered. “Just tell me, and we can both go home.”

“I saw Lionblaze fight the fox,” Yellowfang rasped.

“And?”

“It was a sign.”

“A sign of what? That he’s a mouse-brain?”

“He fought it alone.”

“Yeah. I know. He’s a mouse-brain,” Jayfeather repeated. His teeth were starting to chatter. “Can you get to the point?”

Yellowfang’s stinking breath billowed around his muzzle as she leaned close. “Stop complaining and start listening,” she hissed. “Like Lionblaze, ThunderClan must fight alone.”

“When?”

“When the Dark Forest rises, ThunderClan must face its greatest enemy alone.”

Jayfeather blinked. “But the Dark Forest threatens every Clan.”