Sunrise

“There’s something else we need to think about,” Graystripe added. “Remember when ThunderClan kept Brokentail prisoner, back in the old forest? He ended up befriending Tigerclaw and attacking ThunderClan from within. We can’t trust Sol while he’s inside our camp!”

“Then we’ve got to punish him.” Birchfall lashed his tail. “We can’t let him cause any more trouble.”

“Let’s make him collect mouse bile!” Poppyfrost’s eyes gleamed; clearly she was remembering the tasks she had to do when she was an apprentice.

“We could make him hunt prey for the Clan,” Brackenfur suggested.

“But then he might escape,” Lionblaze pointed out.

“We can’t punish him until we’re sure he’s guilty,” Firestar meowed. “All we can do is wait. Leafpool, will you watch for any signs from StarClan? Surely our warrior ancestors know the truth.” He raked his claws across the ground, leaving deep marks in the wet earth. “Why haven’t they shown us something already?”

Leafpool’s expression was guarded. “StarClan will tell us what it wants us to know in its own good time.”

Firestar dipped his head, accepting what his medicine cat told him. “Then Sol will stay here under guard until we have more evidence,” he decided. With another glance at Leafpool, he added, “Until StarClan decides to help us.”

In the days that followed, ThunderClan settled into an uneasy routine of feeding Sol, watching him stretch his legs when he was allowed out into the clearing, and escorting him to make dirt. Sol never lost his air of calm, and he treated every cat with the same friendliness.

Lionblaze waited frustratedly for the chance to talk to him alone. He was desperate to discuss the prophecy. He couldn’t forget the sense of power and control he had felt when facing the dogs, which convinced him still that he was one of the Three. But Sol was never left alone, and only the senior warriors were assigned to guard him.

The weather stayed sunny and dry, even though each morning the trees were rimmed with frost. Sometimes it was even warm enough by sunhigh to bask on a couple of flattish rocks at the base of the cliff. Mousefur especially liked to stretch out there, soaking up the sunlight.

“The elders should be allowed to bask here whenever we want,” she had announced. “Our old bones need it.” She sighed, twitching her ears. “Back in the old forest, we had Sunningrocks. All the Clan’s cats could bask there together, if they wanted.”

Since Purdy’s arrival, she had taken to lying on the rocks with him. Lionblaze was surprised at their friendship, but he figured that they talked about things like how rude young cats were these days and how much tastier prey used to be.

Around sunhigh, several days after the patrol’s return, Lionblaze was strolling back to the camp with Honeyfern and Berrynose. They had spent the morning training with Squirrelflight and Brackenfur and the two apprentices; Brackenfur had taken over as Icepaw’s mentor since Whitewing was so close to having her kits.

“They’re doing so well,” Honeyfern purred. “Did you see how high Icepaw can leap?”

“And Foxpaw can dodge really quickly,” Lionblaze agreed. “Squirrelflight made them practice that move over and over again, and they’ve both got it now.”

Berrynose paused to stretch his jaws wide in a yawn. “I feel like lying in the sun for a bit to catch my breath. I wonder if Mousefur will let us have a turn on the basking rocks.”

“Good idea,” mewed Lionblaze.

Pushing his way through the thorn tunnel, he saw that Mousefur, Purdy, and Longtail were all snoozing on the flat-topped rocks. Berrynose bounded over to them eagerly; Lionblaze followed with Honeyfern.

But Purdy wasn’t dozing after all. “So my Upwalker,” he was meowing as they approached, “he says to me, ‘Purdy,’ he says, ‘there’s only you can get rid of this mouse, and—’” He broke off, blinking as he spotted the younger cats.

Lionblaze noticed that Mousefur and Longtail, to whom Purdy was telling his story, were both fast asleep.

“Hi, Purdy,” he greeted the old tabby. “We were wondering if we could bask here with you for a bit. We’ve been training all morning, and we’re tired.”

“Young cats today—no stamina,” Purdy grumbled, but he rose to his paws, stretched, then prodded Mousefur and Longtail awake.

“Wha’?” Mousefur woke with a start.

“These young ’uns want to bask,” Purdy explained.

The tip of Mousefur’s tail twitched, but to Lionblaze’s surprise she didn’t object. “I suppose so,” she muttered. “We’ll even leave the rocks to you, providing one of you brings a bit of fresh-kill to our den. I could just eat a good plump vole.”

“I’ll do that,” Honeyfern offered, bounding off to the fresh-kill pile.

Mousefur laid her tail on Longtail’s shoulders to guide him down from the rocks, and the three elders headed off toward their den under the hazel bush.

“Thanks!” Lionblaze called after them.

“You fell asleep and missed some of the story,” Purdy mewed to Mousefur as they retreated. “I’d better start it all over again. There was this mouse, see…”