Sunrise

“I know it’s not my place to tell a medicine cat how to speak with StarClan,” Firestar meowed, sounding more awkward with every word. “But I wondered…have you thought of finding Ashfur in StarClan and asking him who killed him?”

What? Jayfeather nearly choked on a piece of moss.

For a long moment Leafpool was silent; when she spoke at last, her voice was as icy as leaf-bare snow. “It’s not my choice whom I meet in StarClan. Our ancestors approach me; I cannot search them out. If Ashfur comes to me and wishes to talk, then I will listen.”

It wasn’t only shock and anger she felt as she answered Firestar, Jayfeather realized. There was something else behind that: Could it be…fear?

“I’m sorry,” Firestar apologized. “I didn’t think…”

“I’ll do all I can, I promise,” Leafpool added more gently. “I want to know who killed Ashfur as much as you do.”

So why am I finding it hard to believe her? Jayfeather asked himself.

Later that day, after Jayfeather had cleared out all the old bedding and delivered tansy to the cats still suffering from the after-effects of greencough, he padded over to the fresh-kill pile and chose a vole. A thick flurry of snow had swept across the clearing earlier, but now a weak ray of sunlight warmed his fur.

While he was eating, he scented Leafpool emerging from the elders’ den with Mousefur and Longtail padding behind her.

“Jayfeather?” Leafpool called to him. “When you’ve finished there I want you to go out for a stroll with Mousefur and Longtail. It’ll be the first time they’ve been out of the camp since the greencough.”

Jayfeather gulped down a mouthful of vole. “Okay.”

“We’re not kits, you know,” Mousefur grumbled. “We can be trusted to get to the lake and back without some cat guiding our paws.”

“I know,” Leafpool replied patiently. “But I want Jayfeather to look for herbs. We’re getting very low on tansy. We could do with chervil and yarrow, too. There might still be something growing under the trees near the lake.”

Mousefur’s only response was an exaggerated sigh; Jayfeather pictured the skinny brown elder rolling her eyes.

Leafpool padded up to Jayfeather, close enough to brush his pelt. “I want you to take special care of Mousefur,” she whispered. “Make sure she doesn’t go too far, and check her breathing.” More loudly she added, “Mousefur, maybe you and Longtail could help Jayfeather carry back any herbs he finds.”

“I think we might just about manage that,” Mousefur growled.

Jayfeather swallowed the last of his vole and led the way across the clearing and through the thorn tunnel. Mousefur followed him, guiding Longtail. The forest seemed very quiet now that most of the leaves had fallen from the trees. Jayfeather had to push his way through mounds of dead leaves on the ground and keep alert to avoid drifts of snow that still remained under the trees. The air tingled with frost.

The scent of water led him toward the lake. He kept one ear pricked for Mousefur and Longtail, who padded beside him, and sensed before Mousefur the branch that had fallen across their path.

“This way,” he mewed to Longtail, laying his tail over the blind tabby’s shoulders to guide him around the obstacle. “It’s okay, you won’t get your paws tangled.”

“I think you see better than any of us.” Mousefur didn’t sound as grouchy as usual; she almost seemed impressed.

I wish I did, Jayfeather thought. Right now I can’t see far enough. He wanted to know what had happened to the prophecy, and whether Rock knew anything about the secret Squirrelflight had revealed. Most of all, he wanted to know who his real parents were.

The trees thinned out and cold wind hit Jayfeather in the face as the three cats neared the lake.

“You go off and do whatever you have to,” Mousefur meowed. “Longtail and I are going to find a nice patch of sun to snooze in.”

“Yes, there should be plenty of herbs—”

“Look,” the skinny brown elder interrupted, “I know Leafpool only sent you along with us to be sure we made it to the lake without keeling over. You’ll be lucky to find enough herbs to fill your own mouth this far into leaf-bare!”

“It’s not like that,” Jayfeather protested.

“Go on, we’ll be fine,” Longtail insisted.

“And if you need our help, just call,” Mousefur added. “I might be a bit unsteady on my feet, but there’s nothing wrong with my ears.”

“Fine.” Relieved to be free of his duty, Jayfeather pelted along the lakeshore until he reached the twisted tree roots where he had hidden the stick. The cold wind from the lake blew his fur the wrong way as he tugged it out and dragged it under an elder bush. Then he lay down with his paws resting on the scratches.

Come on, Rock. I need to talk to you.