The Last Hope

The ThunderClan deputy hadn’t chosen Ivypool for the Gathering. When Dovewing had begged him to let her littermate join the patrol, he’d shaken his head. “She’s been looking tired for moons. Perhaps Jayfeather should check her.”

“She’s fine,” Dovewing had quickly reassured him.

Ivypool turned in her nest. “I’d rather stay here and sleep.”

Dovewing blinked at her. Did she want to dream her way back into the Dark Forest already?

Ivypool’s gaze flicked toward Blossomfall and Birchfall as the warriors passed the den entrance. Then she closed her eyes. “Brambleclaw’s right,” she murmured. “I am tired.”

Dovewing ducked outside and crossed the clearing to where Lionblaze and Cloudtail were already waiting by the thorn tunnel. Foxleap sat beside them, while Cherrypaw patted playfully at Molepaw’s twitching tail.

“Wait for me.” Rosepetal hurried to catch up. “Bumblestripe’s trying to cram in an extra mouse before we leave.”

Dovewing snorted. “He’ll be as fat as Graystripe if he keeps eating like that.”

The pale gray warrior was rummaging through the fresh-kill pile, his black stripes like moon shadows across his pelt. Graystripe nosed in beside him. “Any good prey left?”

Bumblestripe hooked out a shrew and licked his lips. “This must have been hidden at the bottom.”

“You’d better offer it to Mousefur first,” Graystripe advised. “She loves shrew.”

Bumblestripe looked across to the honeysuckle bush. Mousefur was outside, washing her ears with a trembling forepaw. Bumblestripe held out the shrew, letting it dangle from a claw. “Are you hungry, Mousefur?”

She looked up, whiskers twitching. “Not really. I wish I still had a warrior’s appetite.”

Beside her, Purdy rolled onto his back and stretched. “Do you ever miss hunting?” he asked.

“As much as you’d miss talking if your tongue fell out,” Mousefur rasped.

Bumblestripe looked at the shrew, his eyes lighting up. “I guess it’s mine, then.”

Ferncloud marched from the nursery. “Brightheart would probably appreciate it more.” She nipped the shrew from his claw and carried it back to where Brightheart lay resting, her belly round in the moonlight. Bumblestripe’s tail drooped.

Dovewing purred and nudged Rosepetal. “Poor old Bumblestripe. Always first to the pile and last to get fed.”

Firestar jumped down from Highledge and gazed at the rising moon. “We should leave.” He glanced over his shoulder as Sandstorm landed beside him. “The break in the weather might not last long.”

Brambleclaw stretched beside the warriors’ den, then followed Firestar across the clearing. Cinderheart padded out of her den and stared wistfully at the thorn barrier.

Squirrelflight hopped out after her. “Are you going to the Gathering?”

Cinderheart shrugged. “Not tonight.”

“What about Jayfeather?” Lionblaze met Firestar as the ThunderClan leader reached the camp entrance. “Is he coming with us?” Jayfeather stood in the entrance to the medicine den, brambles draping his spine.

Firestar shook his head.

“But no Clan goes to a Gathering without their medicine cat,” Lionblaze objected.

Brambleclaw smoothed Lionblaze’s ruffled fur with a flick of his tail. “He’s not our medicine cat as far as the other Clans are concerned.”

Lionblaze growled. “I don’t like the other Clans telling us what to do.”

“Nor do I.” Firestar flexed his claws. “But this is not a battle worth fighting.”

Rosepetal stepped forward. “Couldn’t Cinderheart take his place? She used to be ThunderClan’s medicine cat.”

Cinderheart, still watching from the warriors’ den, pricked her ears.

“No.” Firestar dipped his head toward Cinderheart. “The Clans don’t need to know Cinderheart’s history until she decides for herself which path she must choose.”

To Dovewing’s surprise, Cinderheart looked relieved. Didn’t she want to return to her old role as medicine cat?

A gust of wind rattled the thornbush. “Let’s go.” Firestar pushed into the brambles. “There’s more rain coming. It may be a short Gathering.”

The patrol pounded up the slope as Firestar followed the trail to the forest’s edge. Pelts flashed between brambles. Dovewing’s paws slithered on wet leaves. As Blossomfall steadied her with a flick of her tail, a gray pelt caught the edge of her vision. Dovewing turned to see Bumblestripe fall in beside her, his feet skimming the ground as he matched her paw step for paw step. She pushed harder to pull ahead. The gray warrior seemed to be there every time she looked over her shoulder. She veered around a bramble, sliding across his path so he had to pull up and let her take the lead.

She reached the top of the slope before him and, breaking from the trees, stared down at the lake. Please, StarClan, let Tigerheart be there. The prayer pierced her heart, more an ache than a wish.

“Tired already?” Rosepetal pulled up beside her.

“I’m not!” Blossomfall mewed as she pelted past them, skidding down the slope after her Clanmates.

Bumblestripe scrambled to a halt beside Dovewing and Rosepetal. “You nearly ran me into a tree!”