shall have first pick of the prey when we get home.”
Leopardstar lifted her voice. “Out of RiverClan’s appren
tices, Pouncepaw will eat the best fish tonight as a reward for her excellent hunting skills.”
“Heatherpaw shall have the fattest rabbit,” Onestar called.
“She climbed to the top of the Sky Oak!”
Jaypaw’s muzzle sank to his chest. He didn’t want to hear how well every other apprentice had done.
“And from ThunderClan,” Firestar announced, “Hollypaw may choose first prey from the pile. She fought excellently for such a new apprentice.”
Jaypaw felt pride surge in his sister’s pelt, and hated the jealousy that throbbed in his paws. “Well done,” he mumbled.
“I’d better get back and see if Leafpool needs help.”
“Please stay,” Hollypaw mewed.
Jaypaw shook his head and turned away. He began to climb the slope toward the tree line. Then Onestar’s voice sounded from below.
“There is one apprentice who deserves a special mention above all the others today.”
Jaypaw kept on walking.
“Jaypaw.”
Jaypaw stopped.
“This young ThunderClan apprentice has earned the gratitude of every cat for his courage and quick thinking today.”
Jaypaw felt the curious gaze of all the Clans ruffle his pelt.
He turned self-consciously to face them.
Firestar joined in. “He saved two apprentices. They nearly suffocated when an old badger set collapsed beneath them.
Jaypaw found them in time and dug them out.”
Shocked mews turned into cheers. They were cheering for him! Hollypaw’s and Squirrelflight’s pelts suddenly brushed against his flanks.
Hollypaw pressed her nose against his cheek. “You’re a hero.”
Could blind cats be heroes? Jaypaw wondered.
“This has been a good Gathering,” Firestar meowed as the cheering died down. “It has reminded me of the Great Journey, and I think it marks a successful start to the second newleaf in our new home. A lot has changed, but we are still true warriors!”
But Jaypaw didn’t want consoling. He wanted things to be
Nightcloud was sleeping beside Breezepaw and Lionpaw when Jaypaw returned. Leafpool was dozing in her nest.
“Is the Gathering over?” she mewed sleepily as Jaypaw padded into the den.
“Nearly,” Jaypaw replied. “The others will be back soon, I expect.” He listened to the apprentices’ breathing, relieved
to find it deep and slow. The weight of the day suddenly dragged at his paws. He longed to curl up in his own familiar nest, but Lionpaw and Breezepaw needed it more than he did.
Instead, he padded out of the den and clawed up a few clumps of grass. Pressing them among the old brambles piled beside the medicine den, he shaped himself a makeshift nest.
He spiraled down into it, his claws aching from the digging.
There was still dirt trapped between them, but he was too tired to clean them. Instead, he rested his nose on them and closed his eyes.
“Jaypaw.” Leafpool’s mew made him jump. The medicine cat was leaning over him.
“Is everything okay?” he asked anxiously, beginning to scramble out of his nest.
Leafpool pressed him gently back with a paw. “Don’t get up,” she mewed. Something warm and soft touched his paws, and he smelled fresh mouse. “I thought you’d be hungry.”
“Thank you,” Jaypaw murmured.
“You did well today.” As she turned and padded away, a strange sensation prickled through Jaypaw’s pelt. There had been something wrong with the way Leafpool spoke to him just then. It was as if she were
No. He must have imagined it.
He realized how hungry he was. His Clanmates were not yet back from the Gathering, and Jaypaw welcomed the peace in the hollow. With no other thoughts to crowd his mind, he ate his mouse and settled back down to sleep.
Jaypaw blinked open his eyes. He had not intended to dream. But here he was, in an unfamiliar place, standing on a dry, sandy bank in a narrow, high-sided gully. Above him, the night sky stretched like a black river, speckled with stars.
There were no bushes to shelter him, no soft ferns thick with the smell of prey, just a few prickly shrubs and smooth boulders casting round shadows like puddles on the ground. A familiar scent pricked his nose.
Firestar.
Jaypaw gazed around, looking for the ThunderClan leader. But Firestar was nowhere to be seen.
Suddenly a low mew echoed from the roots of a tree on the far side of the gully.
Pelt pricking with curiosity, Jaypaw padded toward the sound and saw, among the great black arching roots, the shadow of an opening. Firestar’s moonlit form was silhouetted against the dark entrance. Jaypaw ducked down behind a thick root.
“I will not fail!” Firestar was meowing.
What was he doing here? Who was he talking to? Jaypaw peered over the root. He could just make out the shape of an aged tomcat sitting in the shadows beneath the tree.
“Sometimes the destiny of one cat is not the destiny of the whole Clan,” the old cat rasped.
Firestar’s mind clouded with confusion; Jaypaw felt it like mist. The ThunderClan leader’s breathing quickened as the tom spoke again, his voice suddenly smooth.
“There will be three, kin of your kin, who hold the power of the stars in their paws.”
Blood pounded in Jaypaw’s ears. An image scorched his mind: he saw himself beside Lionpaw and Hollypaw, eyes gleaming and pelts rippling with strength. With a dreadful, ominous certainty, he knew what the old cat was trying to tell Firestar.
He, Hollypaw, and Lionpaw were the three cats in the prophecy.
Coldness reached through his pelt, setting his fur on end as it drove into his flesh. And at the same time, excitement surged through his paws.
Because he was afraid of having three such powerful cats in his Clan?
Jaypaw stifled the purr that rose inside him, knowing he must not be seen by the other cats. Suddenly it didn’t matter that he was blind, or that he couldn’t take part in the contest.
None of that mattered in the face of this prophecy, that promised a greater destiny for him and his littermates than anything a cat had dreamed of before. Leafpool was right to be wary of him.