The Forgotten Warrior

Dovewing closed down her senses and blocked out the whispering. “This meeting must be about WindClan,” she meowed to Ivypool, her heart beginning to pound with anticipation.

Her sister swallowed her last mouthful of blackbird, then led the way closer to the Highledge. She was moving awkwardly; Dovewing guessed that she had been injured in the Dark Forest, but as usual Ivypool was refusing to talk about it. Foxleap, Molepaw, Rosepetal, and Hazeltail came to sit beside them, while Dustpelt, Graystripe, and Millie settled a couple of tail-lengths away. Mousewhisker and Cherrypaw emerged from the medicine cat’s den and joined the crowd on shaky legs, flopping down to listen beside Poppyfrost and Berrynose. Jayfeather and Briarlight remained beside the bramble screen.

“Everything is so strange right now,” Dovewing muttered as yet more cats appeared from the warriors’ den. “Hollyleaf coming back, Cinderheart being a cat that everyone thought was dead—”

“And a medicine cat, at that,” Ivypool added. “With all Cinderpelt’s memories and skills.”

Hazeltail leaned closer. “So does that mean we have two medicine cats now?” she whispered.

“I guess we do,” Mousewhisker agreed.

Ivypool shook her head. “Like you said, it’s strange. She was my mentor!”

“Surely we need warriors more than another medicine cat?” Foxleap mewed.

“That’s enough,” came a gruff voice behind them. Dovewing had been so intent on what her Clanmates were saying that she hadn’t noticed Brackenfur had joined them. He flicked Foxleap’s ear with his tail. “Firestar is waiting to speak.”

While the last scraps of conversation died away, Dove-wing spotted Hollyleaf by herself at the edge of the crowd. She looked awkward and self-conscious.

There’s been a lot of gossip about her, too, Dovewing thought. It’s only dying down now because there’s something else to talk about.

When Hollyleaf had first returned, Dovewing had tried to avoid her, nervous of getting too close to a cat who had killed a Clanmate, even if it had been an accident. But now she felt a stab of sympathy for the black she-cat.

Maybe Firestar’s right, and she’s been punished more than enough for not speaking up at the time. After all, no cat is blaming Brambleclaw, and he saw it happen!

Dovewing was about to go and sit beside Hollyleaf to give her support, when she saw another cat slip out of the warriors’ den: Cinderheart. The gray she-cat padded across to Hollyleaf; without speaking she inclined her head toward Hollyleaf’s until their ears touched.

“I see the odd ones are sticking together,” Foxleap commented.

“That’s enough!” Millie hissed. “Don’t speak like that about your Clanmates.”

Foxleap ducked his head, embarrassed.

“Cinderheart was Hollyleaf’s best friend before she… went away,” Millie continued. “And now they have something in common, a big secret revealed. They should be treated with kindness, nothing else.”

“Well, Millie, you should know what it’s like to be the odd one out. Having been a kittypet and all.”

Dovewing’s head whipped around as she tried to find the source of the whisper, but she couldn’t spot which cat had spoken. So many rumors and secrets, she thought with a shiver, wondering what else might be revealed. Her gaze fell once more on Ivypool, who was flexing one foreleg as if she were testing its strength. Definitely a Dark Forest injury, Dovewing decided. That’s one secret that must be kept whatever happens.

Firestar rose to his paws. “I have grave news,” he began, “and I’ve decided to share it with the Clan after discussing it with Brambleclaw and the senior warriors. I know you’re all curious about the extra patrols, and the fact that I’ve forbidden you to hunt along the WindClan border. It seems that Sol has betrayed us; he’s planning an attack with cats from WindClan.”

“What?” Mousefur screeched, shakily struggling to her paws from where she was sitting at the entrance to the elders’ den, with Purdy beside her. “Didn’t I tell you that cat was trouble?”

Several cats had jumped to their feet along with Mousefur, letting out caterwauls of shock and defiance. Dovewing glanced around at the cats she had overheard plotting with Sol, and noticed that Hazeltail and Rosepetal were exchanging horrified glances, while Blossomfall’s jaws were gaping in utter shock. Mousewhisker was on his paws with the rest. “Traitor! Mange-pelt!” he yowled.