Willowpaw sounded anxious.
“Yes. She got better on her own, and the herbs can be saved for a cat with greater need,” Mudfur praised her.
Jaypaw peeped over the root again. Willowpaw was flicking her tail happily. “Have you news to share with RiverClan?” she asked.
“Beware the Twolegs upstream. Their kits are trying to block the water that feeds the Clan.”
“I’ll warn Mothwing,” Willowpaw promised.
Jaypaw’s whiskers tingled. Why didn’t Mudfur tell Mothwing himself? Had the two cats argued? Would he share tongues only with Willowpaw?
He backed away from the oak tree. If Willowpaw was dreaming of Mudfur, what was Mothwing dreaming of? He opened his mouth to taste the air, searching out Mothwing’s scent.
He smelled nothing. Willowpaw’s scent had disappeared, as though her dream had slipped from his paws. He tried to draw Mothwing’s scent to him, as he had done with Willowpaw, but nothing came. He closed his eyes and allowed the forest to slide from his consciousness, letting himself fall back to the hollow. When he opened his eyes, the Moonpool was shining far below him. He could see the other cats still sleeping around the pool—including him. Mothwing was breathing more heavily than the others, her body twitching while the others lay motionless.
Closing his eyes, Jaypaw focused on her mind, willing himself into her thoughts. He smelled prey, and then water, and opened his eyes to find himself among reeds at the edge of a
lake. Mothwing was a few tails ahead of him, stalking a frog.
She pounced on it as it hopped, then let it go and watched it hop again, her whiskers twitching with amusement as it struggled clumsily among the reeds. A butterfly fluttered above her head, and she sprang up and grabbed it from the air, holding it close so that its wings tickled her nose.
With a jolt, Jaypaw realized this was not StarClan’s hunting grounds. This was the shore of the lake that stretched between ThunderClan and RiverClan. The RiverClan medicine cat was dreaming the ordinary dreams of any Clan cat.
Chapter 20
Jaypaw let his vision flit back to StarClan’s hunting grounds.
He wanted to see the other cats, find out which ones truly shared with StarClan. Sunlight flickered once again through the trembling canopy of leaves and warmed his pelt.
He was back.
“Spottedleaf was right.” A rasping purr sounded from the long grass beside him. The grass quivered as a disheveled she-cat padded out. Her long, pale fur was matted in places, and her pawsteps were heavy. Jaypaw recognized her broad, flat face at once. It was the face that had stared directly at him from the ranks of StarClan when he had first seen them at the hollow.
“What did Spottedleaf say?” he asked.
“She warned me not to leave you to your own devices too long.”
“I wasn’t doing anything,” he mewed defensively.
“I’ve lived long enough to learn the look of mischief on a kit’s face,” she grunted.
“I’m not a kit!” Jaypaw retorted.
“At my age, you all appear like kits.” The old cat’s mew croaked with amusement.
“Who are you?” he meowed.
“Yellowfang. I was ThunderClan’s medicine cat before Cinderpelt. You’ve heard of Cinderpelt, I assume?”
“Of course,” Jaypaw mewed, lifting his chin. “Leafpool keeps looking for her among StarClan, but she can’t find her.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Have you seen her?”
“Yes, I’ve
“You’re trying to walk in other cats’ dreams, aren’t you?”
“So what if I am?”
“You should be careful,” she warned. “A cat with big ears sometimes hears more than he should.”
“And who decides what I should and should not hear?”
Jaypaw countered.
“You do.” Yellowfang’s gaze burned into his. “But you are young, and curiosity can be dangerous. Be careful where you tread.”
Jaypaw bristled. Why was this old fleabag telling him what to do? “Leafpool knows I can walk in other cats’ dreams,” he snapped. “She told me it was a special gift.”
“It is,” Yellowfang agreed.
“Then why shouldn’t I use it?”
“You have claws?” Yellowfang’s eyes glinted as she asked him the question.
“Of course!”
“Then why don’t you silence me by shredding me with them?”
“Why not?”
“It would be wrong!” What did she think he was? A weasel? “You’re my ancestor and my elder—”
“And I’m three times your size.” Amusement rumbled once more in Yellowfang’s mew.
Jaypaw stared at her. What was she trying to say?
“There are many reasons why we don’t use every power we have. Sometimes the warrior code guides us, sometimes instinct, sometimes common sense.” She leaned closer toward Jaypaw, and he tried not to shrink away from her stale breath. “You have a remarkable gift, Jaypaw, but you must think before you use it.”
Was she calling him stupid? Jaypaw lashed his tail mutinously.
Yellowfang narrowed her eyes and sighed. “Kits!” she muttered. “I’m wasting my breath.” She turned, ready to leave.
“Wait!” Jaypaw wasn’t going to lose a chance to speak with StarClan. He wanted to solve the puzzle of Mothwing. “Do you often share things with the medicine cats?”
Yellowfang glanced back at him, her eyes glittering with suspicion. “Sometimes. Why?”
“Have you spoken with Mothwing?”
Yellowfang’s ears twitched. “You want me to waste more
words on answers you won’t understand?”
“I just want to know if you’ve spoken to her.”
“You are driven only by curiosity,” Yellowfang hissed.
“That is not a good enough reason.”
Jaypaw plucked at the ground with annoyance. “Why won’t you tell me?”
“Because,” Yellowfang growled, “if the answers are there, you will find them anyway.”
Before he could say anything else, the old cat stalked away into the grass. It quivered, then fell still, and her scent disappeared like mist in the wind.
Jaypaw itched with crossness. There was so much he wanted to know; why couldn’t StarClan just be open with him?
He padded through the trees, trying to draw the scent of another medicine cat to him. A WindClan odor, earthy as moorland air, hit him.
