Outcast

There was a question in her voice, and Jaypaw could taste a powerful scent of curiosity coming from her. Leafpool clearly knew there was more to the story of the lost kits than he and his littermates were telling. But there was no way he would reveal that the kits had actually been wandering in the network of tunnels that lay beneath ThunderClan and WindClan territory. He knew that Lionpaw and Hollypaw, as well as the WindClan apprentices Heatherpaw and Breezepaw, would keep quiet too. No cat wanted to admit that Lionpaw and Heatherpaw had been playing in the tunnels for moons.

So they couldn’t tell the story of how nearly they had drowned, along with the missing kits, as rain filled the tunnels and swelled the underground stream into a terrifying flood. Jaypaw still had nightmares about the surging, suffocating river.

“Jaypaw, are you all right?” Leafpool went on. Her irritation was fading, giving way to concern, a sticky flood that threatened to overwhelm Jaypaw just like the water in the tunnels. “You would tell me, wouldn’t you, if anything was wrong?”

“Sure,” he muttered, hoping his mentor wouldn’t detect the lie. “Everything’s fine.”

Leafpool hesitated. Jaypaw felt his fur begin to prickle defensively. But the medicine cat only sighed and mewed, “Go and eat, then. Later, when it’s a bit cooler, we’ll go up to the old Twoleg nest and collect some catmint.”

Before she had finished speaking, Jaypaw was on his paws and pushing his way out past the brambles. He padded over to the fresh-kill pile, sniffed out a plump mouse, and carried it back to a sunny spot outside his den to eat it. Sunhigh was just past, and the stone hollow was filled with warmth. His belly comfortably full, Jaypaw lay on his side and cleaned his whiskers with one paw.

Cinderpaw and Hollypaw had just pushed their way in through the thorn tunnel. Even at a distance Jaypaw could pick up the mossy scent of the training hollow clinging to their fur.

“I’m sorry I beat you every time,” Hollypaw meowed. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine,” Cinderpaw insisted. “I wouldn’t be okay if you let me win by not fighting your best.”

Her voice sounded brave, but Jaypaw could tell from her paw steps that Cinderpaw’s injured leg was troubling her.

There was nothing more the medicine cats could do; only time could strengthen the leg. Or was Cinderpaw destined never to be a warrior, like Cinderpelt before her?

Jaypaw was distracted from Cinderpaw’s problem by the sound of shrill squeals coming from the nursery. He winced.

Daisy’s kits were only four sunrises old, but they had huge voices. Their father, Spiderleg, had insisted on taking Mousepaw out for his assessment, even though Dustpelt had offered to take his place so he could spend more time in the nursery. Jaypaw thought Spiderleg seemed awkward around his kits, as if he couldn’t adjust to the idea of being a father.

In any case, Jaypaw thought, the nursery was pretty crowded. Icekit and Foxkit, Ferncloud’s latest litter, were still there, though they were nearly old enough to become apprentices. And Millie, who was expecting Graystripe’s kits, had just moved in. Jaypaw knew that Firestar was proud of how strong ThunderClan was becoming, though he sometimes worried about how they would all be fed.

More rustling came from the thorn tunnel and Lionpaw staggered into the camp with his mentor, Ashfur, just behind him.

“Two mice and a squirrel!” Ashfur meowed. “Well done, Lionpaw. That’s the sort of hunting I expect from you.”

In spite of the words of praise, Ashfur didn’t sound enthusiastic. Jaypaw thought that his brother and Ashfur had never gotten on as well as mentor and apprentice should. There was something there that puzzled him, and something in Ashfur that he couldn’t read.

But it was probably unimportant. Jaypaw dismissed the question from his mind as his brother flopped down beside him, a mouse in his jaws.

“I’m worn out!” Lionpaw announced. “I thought I’d have to chase that squirrel all the way to ShadowClan.”

“Why bother?” Jaypaw asked. “It’s not your assessment today.”

“I know,” Lionpaw mumbled around a mouthful of fresh-kill. “But that’s not the point. A good warrior will always do as much as he can to feed the Clan.”

And Lionpaw wanted to be the best warrior he could.

Jaypaw knew that, and he knew how tense and determined his brother had been ever since they found the kits in the tunnels. He knew the reason, too, even without reading Lionpaw’s mind: His brother had decided to concentrate on his training to make up for meeting the WindClan apprentice Heatherpaw in secret.

Jaypaw’s whiskers twitched in sympathy. As a medicine cat, he was allowed to have friends outside his Clan, though he couldn’t imagine wanting to. How could anyone trust a cat from a different Clan?

The patter of a falling pebble alerted him that Firestar was bounding down from the Highledge. His voice came from close to the warriors’ den.

“We need a border patrol. Which of you—”

Beside Jaypaw, Lionpaw leaped to his feet. “I’ll go!”