River Of Fire

Briarlight looked up at her mother. “Don’t . . . worry about me, Millie. I shall . . . run and hunt again . . . in StarClan.”

Then her eyes closed once more and she sighed out a long, final breath. Millie let out a terrible wail; Graystripe and her two remaining kits huddled around her.

Alderheart couldn’t bear to watch them trying to comfort one another. He stumbled out of the den, shocked to see that the sun was already going down, casting dark shadows across the hollow. His legs gave way under him and he crouched with his head on his paws and gave himself up to grief.

Soon he realized that Jayfeather had followed him out and was crouching beside him, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps. “This is my fault,” he snarled. “I must have given her the sickness when I went into the nursery to deliver Ivypool’s kits. I should never have gone near her.”

His guilt and regret struck Alderheart like a massive claw, driving him a little way out of his own sorrow. “It’s not your fault,” he meowed firmly. “Ivypool and her kits might have died without a medicine cat to help. Besides, you could just as well say that Leafpool and I were responsible. We shouldn’t have left you as the only medicine cat in camp.”

Jayfeather turned his head toward him with an intense blind stare. “We all thought Ivypool had a few more days to go,” he admitted. “But that doesn’t change the fact that Briarlight got the sickness from me. And I couldn’t help her,” he added. “No cat could help her. Oh, StarClan, what good are we?”

“You did your best,” Alderheart told him, beginning to recover in his need to comfort Jayfeather. “You gave her seasons of life with the routines and the exercises you worked out for her.”

He half expected Jayfeather to snap at him, but to his surprise his Clanmate gave a grunt of agreement. “I wish I could have healed her,” he meowed.

“So do I,” Alderheart responded. “I blame myself. . . . I should have realized how weak she was getting.”

“No.” Jayfeather shook his head emphatically. “You’re a fine medicine cat. None of us saw this coming.”

Movement behind Alderheart made him turn, to see Leafpool leading the way out of the medicine cats’ den, followed by Graystripe and Millie carrying Briarlight. They laid her body in the center of the camp, and the rest of the Clan began to gather around to keep vigil for her.

Jayfeather rose and padded over to join Leafpool at Briarlight’s head. Alderheart stayed where he was for a few heartbeats, pulling himself together to face his Clan. His heart ached, but Jayfeather’s unexpected words had comforted him a little.

Jayfeather has praised me before—once or twice—but this is the first time he’s made me really believe I might one day be a good medicine cat.

The cats of ThunderClan gathered in a ragged circle around Briarlight’s body to keep vigil for her. Alderheart joined them, and he listened as many of his Clanmates rose to share their memories of her.

“She was good to me when I was a kit,” Twigpaw declared. “I was scared, and missing my sister, and everything here was strange. But Briarlight made me feel I was helping her, so it was like I belonged.”

When she had finished speaking, Graystripe and Millie rose to their paws. Millie’s voice failed her, and it was Graystripe who spoke for both of them. “We were so proud of her. She was strong and brave, and even though she couldn’t walk, she always had the heart of a warrior.”

“That’s true,” Blossomfall added, standing beside her mother and father. “I only hope my kits will inherit some of Briarlight’s optimism and determination.”

As they sat down again, Jayfeather rose to his paws. “She never gave up,” he began. “She never—” His voice choked, and he couldn’t go on.

“She never lost her courage or her sense of humor,” Alderheart continued, springing up to stand beside Jayfeather. “She was a very special cat, and we’ll both miss her. Not because we looked after her, but because she was our friend.”

Jayfeather nodded. To Alderheart’s surprise, Fuzzball crept up and sat quietly beside him. He was even more astonished to see Jayfeather reach out with his tail and touch the little ginger tom lightly on his shoulder.

At last the sky above the hollow began to grow pale with dawn, and the warriors of StarClan winked out one by one. Leafpool rose to her paws.

“May StarClan light your path, Briarlight,” she meowed, using the words that medicine cats had spoken over the bodies of the dead for season upon season. “May you find good hunting, swift running, and shelter when you sleep.”

Her words gave Alderheart a tiny measure of comfort, like a thin ray of sunlight striking through dark branches. For a moment he seemed to see Briarlight, swift and beautiful, racing through the lush grass and trees of StarClan.