Sunrise

Lionblaze caught a flash of frustration in Firestar’s green eyes. Sol had neither confirmed nor denied the accusation.

“Make him confess!” some cat hissed from the back of the crowd.

Firestar ignored the fierce words, his gaze still fixed on Sol. “What were you doing on the WindClan border?” he asked.

Sol shrugged. “How should I remember? It was many sunrises ago.”

“Did you see Ashfur there?” Lionblaze could tell how hard Firestar found it to keep his voice even and calm as he questioned the loner.

“Ashfur…?”

“A powerful tom with thick grey fur.” There was an edge of irritation in Firestar’s tone; Lionblaze guessed that Sol knew very well who Ashfur was.

Sol shook his head. “I didn’t see any cat there.”

“Did you scent any?”

Lionblaze caught a gleam of amusement in Sol’s eyes, as if the mysterious loner had picked up Firestar’s increasing desperation. “I scented ThunderClan and WindClan,” he replied. “But I didn’t recognize any particular scents.”

“Did you hear any sound of fighting?”

Sol blinked slowly. “No.”

Firestar paused, the tip of his tail twitching in frustration. A cold claw seemed to touch Lionblaze’s belly as he realized that even his Clan leader couldn’t penetrate Sol’s secrets.

“Go and get something to eat,” Firestar mewed eventually. “But don’t think this is over,” he warned Sol. “We will speak of this again. Cloudtail, will you take over guard duty, please?”

“It’ll be a pleasure,” the white warrior growled. He padded after Sol and Brambleclaw as the deputy escorted Sol to the fresh-kill pile and then back to the nest, and settled himself under the outermost branches of the bush, his face grim and his pelt bristling.

When Sol had gone, Brambleclaw was able to organize the hunting patrols, and cats began to leave.

“All the cats who went to find Sol can have the morning to recover,” the deputy meowed to Lionblaze. “Make sure you all get a good rest.”

Lionblaze wasn’t sure that would be possible. His Clanmates crowded around him and the other cats who had made the journey, demanding to know what had happened.

“Was it hard, trying to bring Sol back?” Poppyfrost asked.

“Yeah, did he try to escape?” Foxpaw added excitedly.

“No,” Lionblaze replied. “He was willing to come. He did exactly what we wanted.”

And that’s strange, he added to himself. Does he have a reason of his own for agreeing to come here? Every hair on his pelt prickled. Does he think he can do to us what he did to ShadowClan?

“Were you scared?” Mousewhisker whispered, his eyes wide as if he was imagining all kinds of disasters. “That cat might do anything.”

“You watch what you’re saying, young ’un!” Purdy’s voice rang out loudly as the elder came bustling up to the group of cats. “You don’t know what you’re talkin’ about. Sol is a good cat. He’s my friend.”

Mousewhisker jumped back, alarmed by the old tabby’s fierce protest.

“But he was seen—” Cinderheart began.

“Sol would never hurt another cat,” Purdy insisted, looming over the younger cats. “Have you all got fluff in your heads?”

“Look, Purdy,” Lionblaze began, trying to think of how he could convince the old cat.

Sandstorm interrupted him. “It’s okay, Purdy. No cat will harm Sol if he’s innocent. Come on, let me show you the fresh-kill pile.”

Mumbling something under his breath, Purdy glared at the younger warriors before allowing the ginger she-cat to lead him away.

“Phew!” Lionblaze glanced at Hollyleaf. “I thought he was going to knock me out with his dog-breath.”

Hollyleaf was more sympathetic. “Well, he’s the only one defending Sol just now. Every other cat has already decided that he’s guilty.”

Lionblaze opened his mouth to ask, What do you think? But Hollyleaf was already padding away, and the question remained unspoken. Thinking it over, Lionblaze wasn’t sure that he wanted to know the answer.

He was heading back to the warriors’ den to rest when he heard a call from Firestar, and spotted the Clan leader at the foot of the tumbled rocks, beckoning with his tail to gather his remaining warriors around him. As he padded up to the Highledge, Lionblaze thought that Firestar looked edgy; he was flexing his claws as if he wanted action but wasn’t sure what it should be.

“Leafpool,” the Clan leader began, spotting the medicine cat at the edge of the group, “do you know of any way we can be sure whether Sol killed Ashfur?”

The medicine cat shook her head.

“What about the bitemarks?” Sorreltail suggested. “Could we get Sol to bite on a leaf, and then measure his teethmarks against Ashfur’s wound?”

“Brilliant!” Firestar meowed, giving the tortoiseshell she-cat a warm look of approval. “I’ll—”

“It won’t work,” Leafpool interrupted. “Ashfur has been buried for too long.”