The Last Hope

Cinderheart nosed him away. “She hurt her leg.” She sniffed at Blossomfall’s sprained shoulder. “How is it feeling?”

Blossomfall jerked away. “I told you! I’m fine!”

Lionblaze saw hurt flash in Cinderheart’s eyes. He dropped his sparrow. “Get some poppy seeds from Jayfeather if you think the pain will keep you awake tonight.” He glanced at Bumblestripe. “Is Jayfeather back?”

Bumblestripe nodded. “He got back just after you left.”

“Was he okay?”

Bumblestripe shrugged. “He snapped at Hazeltail for getting in the way, hissed at Cherrypaw for trampling on Ferncloud’s moss, and ordered Foxleap and Toadstep to fetch comfrey.” He glanced warily over his shoulder. “So I guess he’s fine.”

The thorn barrier rustled. Lionblaze turned to see Hollyleaf wriggle out. Rosepetal, Berrynose, and Whitewing trotted after her. Berrynose, his head high, eyes shining, was carrying a plump pigeon.

On the Highledge, Firestar got to his paws. “Borders clear?”

“Yes.” Hollyleaf halted beside the rock tumble. “And we remarked the scent line along the ShadowClan border. It was a bit stale.”

“Good.” Firestar bounded down into the clearing. “And you checked the tunnel entrances?”

Hollyleaf nodded. “No sign of invasion.”

Graystripe padded across the clearing. “WindClan wouldn’t dare come back after the shredding we gave them last time.” His eyes lit up when he spotted Berrynose’s pigeon. “Nice catch.”

Firestar’s whiskers twitched. “I think you’d better lead the next patrol.” He looked pointedly at his old friend’s round belly. “You could do with stretching your legs.”

Graystripe widened his eyes in mock indignation. “It’s all fur, you know.” He sat back on his haunches, revealing a wide expanse of soft gray fluff.

Hollyleaf purred. “You look like the pigeon!”

Whitewing padded around Graystripe, studying him. “You’ll certainly make it through leaf-bare.”

Graystripe stood up and shook out his pelt. “A good warrior needs to stay strong.”

Lionblaze stiffened, pelt pricking. A good warrior needs to stay strong. Was Graystripe training in the Dark Forest, too?

“Are you okay?” Hollyleaf murmured in his ear.

“Fine.”

“Come on.” Hollyleaf nudged him toward the entrance. “Let’s go for a walk.”

Outside camp, the early leaf-fall sun pierced the leaves with brittle shards of light. They dappled Hollyleaf’s black pelt. Lionblaze followed her along the trail to the Ancient Oak.

“What’s up?” Hollyleaf kept her eyes fixed on the trail.

“Nothing.”

Hollyleaf flicked her tail. “You hardly spoke this morning.”

“I’ve got a lot on my mind.” Had she forgotten he was supposed to be stopping the Dark Forest single-pawed?

“I saw how you were looking at Cinderheart.”

A mossy log blocked the trail here. Sunshine rippled over its crumbling bark. “So?” Lionblaze meowed.

“It bothers you, doesn’t it?” Hollyleaf guessed.

Lionblaze stopped. “What does?”

“Cinderheart being Cinderpelt.” Hollyleaf flicked her tail. “It worries me, too.” She shifted her paws. “She was my best friend before I—” Her voice dipped for a moment. “Before I left. But now I don’t know who I’ve come back to. Is she Cinderheart or Cinderpelt? Was she ever Cinderheart?”

Lionblaze wanted to reassure his sister, but he couldn’t. “I don’t know,” he admitted. He sat down. “Is there a difference? I mean, if she was born with Cinderpelt’s spirit, then she’s been Cinderpelt all along…”

“Is it that simple?” Hollyleaf frowned. “Cinderpelt was a medicine cat. Cinderheart is a warrior. How can she be both?”

Lionblaze shook his head. “I don’t think she knows.”

Hollyleaf tilted her head to one side, thinking. “StarClan gave her a second chance,” she meowed. “We should trust them and just deal with Cinderheart as she is now. Whether she’s a medicine cat or a warrior, she’s still our friend, right?”

“Yeah.” But if she’s a medicine cat, she’ll never take a mate.

“Come on!” Hollyleaf nudged him. “You’re getting too serious.” She leaped onto the log. “Let’s race to the oak!”

Lionblaze blinked at her. “I remember when you were too small to get over that. Squirrelflight had to nose you over.”

Hollyleaf scampered along the trunk. “And you used to graze your belly on it when we were apprentices.” She disappeared over the other side, her paws thrumming away along the trail beyond.

Lionblaze bounded after her, clearing the log without touching it. He spotted Hollyleaf’s black pelt streaking between the trees and chased after the flickering shadow. He caught up and fell in beside her. They raced side by side, leaping over roots and swerving bushes, their pelts brushing.

As the Ancient Oak loomed ahead, the tips of its branches pushing high above the other trees, he scrambled to a halt. “It’s like you never went away.”