The Forgotten Warrior

He led the way across the clearing to the nursery, slipping between the battling shapes that appeared without warning out of the darkness. Squirrelflight lay panting across the entrance, wounded but still guarding the nursery from attack. Jayfeather and Cinderheart passed straight through, somehow without disturbing her.

The nursery was crowded. At the far side, Sorreltail was lying in a mossy nest, her belly heaving as she struggled to give birth. Cinderpelt crouched beside her, gently stroking her belly with one paw. But a badger loomed over both of them, its jaws parted in a threatening snarl. As it raised a paw to swipe at Sorreltail, Cinderpelt turned and sprang between them. The badger’s claws slashed down her side; blood welled out as she collapsed.

“Oh, no—no!” Cinderheart whispered.

Jayfeather was vaguely aware of Leafpool and Crowfeather bursting into the den and attacking the badger, driving it out into the clearing. All his attention was fixed on Cinderpelt. Blood still gushed from her side; she was struggling to breathe, and as Leafpool returned she managed to gasp out a few words before her eyes closed and she went limp.

Behind her in the nest, a tiny kit gave its first thin cry.

Cinderheart’s eyes were wide with horror. “She can’t be dead,” she breathed. “Jayfeather, tell me she’ll be okay.”

“Look at the kit,” was all that Jayfeather said.

Sorreltail was licking the newborn kit with strong, rasping strokes of her tongue. Its gray fur stuck up in tiny spikes. Its delicate nose, the shape of its head, the set of its stubby tail were all echoed in the cat that stood beside Jayfeather.

“That’s me,” Cinderheart murmured in amazement. “That’s how I was born.”

“Yes,” Jayfeather mewed.

Cinderheart turned stricken eyes on him. “Then Cinderpelt gave her life to save mine.”

“Not exactly.” Jayfeather tensed.

Cinderheart blinked in confusion. “But you said she died!”

“Only for a heartbeat,” Jayfeather replied. “And then she was given a whole new life.”

Cinderheart stared at him and he saw the moment when understanding flashed into her eyes. Her voice was scarcely audible, no more than a breath. “And that life was… me.”

Jayfeather nodded. A spiraling flock of emotions was chasing through Cinderheart’s eyes: horror, shock, pride, and then memories upon memories, thicker than falling leaves.

“I’m an apprentice… and Fireheart’s my mentor… he’s such a great teacher!” Cinderheart’s words were coming so fast that Jayfeather could hardly make them out. The she-cat’s flanks twitched as Cinderpelt’s long-buried memories surged through her like a river in full flood. “Hunting’s such fun… and fighting… I want to be the best warrior in the Clan!”

Then she let out a screech of fear and pain. “The monster… no… oh, my leg hurts… I’ll never be a warrior. But I’ll learn all the herbs… marigold for infection, borage leaves for fever, juniper for bellyache, catmint for whitecough and greencough… what are the traveling herbs? Sorrel, daisy, chamomile… oh, and burnet! Must get it right…” Her voice took on a note of deep sadness. “Yellowfang is gone! And now I’m the only medicine cat… It’s so cold here, by the Moonstone. Fireheart is so still… maybe he’s dead. Will StarClan really give him his nine lives?”

Cinderheart began to pant hard, as if she were struggling up a steep slope; then she let out a little cry of wonder and joy. “The lake… it’s so beautiful! Oh, StarClan, thank you for leading us here.” Then the sadness came back, threaded through with a note of fear. “Is that truly my destiny? And Leafpool wants to leave us… what will become of my Clan?”

At last Cinderheart was silent, her breath coming in ragged gasps. In the ruins of the nursery she stared at Jayfeather. “Who am I?” she wailed. “What am I supposed to be?”

Jayfeather stepped forward until he could look down into her distraught blue eyes. “You are Cinderheart,” he insisted. “That is your destiny. StarClan chose to let you live again so that you could follow your first path, to be a great warrior, to have a mate and kits of your own, to fight and hunt for your Clan after caring for them so long from the medicine cat’s den.” He took a deep breath. “Honor StarClan for their decision,” he went on, “and be proud of everything you have achieved in both of your lives. This is all your destiny, Cinderheart.”

“Are you sure?” Cinderheart whispered.

Jayfeather nodded. “StarClan chose that you should be a warrior this time.”

“Who else knows?” Cinderheart asked.

“Only Leafpool,” Jayfeather told her. “No other cats need to know. You are not an echo of Cinderpelt, you are your own cat now. Your Clanmates know you and love you as Cinderheart, which is all the truth they need.”

Cinderheart sighed and gazed around at the nursery; it was still and silent now, as if it were drawing away to a great distance. Slowly she padded over to Cinderpelt’s body, and licked the dead medicine cat’s ears. “I will never forget who I was before,” she murmured. “Thank you for living my first life.”