The Sight

Barkface.

Eagerly, Jaypaw followed his scent. He ducked low and crept through a clump of ferns, weaving carefully between the stems so as not to set them rustling. Peeking out the other side, he spied Barkface. The medicine cat’s eyes were shadowed with worry. Another tom stood with him—WindClan by his scent, his pelt black and white.

“How many dogs will come, Tallstar?” Barkface asked fearfully.

“I don’t know,” Tallstar replied.

“When will they reach us?”

“The Twolegs will bring them when they bring the sheep to eat the newleaf grass,” Tallstar told him. “You must be ready.”

“I will warn Onestar.”

As Jaypaw watched Barkface dip his head to the Clan leader, he felt soft fur brush his pelt. Startled, he jerked his head around.

Spottedleaf was beside him. “This is not your dream,” she mewed sharply.

Jaypaw bristled. Everywhere he went, there were cats telling him what to do! “I’m only watching,” he objected.

“You were not given this gift so you could spy on other Clans,” Spottedleaf scolded.

“Then tell me why I was given this gift at all,” Jaypaw demanded.

Before Spottedleaf could answer, another voice called his name.

“Jaypaw?”

He felt a muzzle nudging his shoulder.

“It’s time to wake up.” Leafpool’s warm breath ruffled his fur.

He opened his eyes to darkness. The forest was gone and the Moonpool lapped at his paws. He could hear the other cats stirring. Littlecloud and Barkface were padding around the Moonpool, while Leafpool stood quietly at his side.

“Did you dream?” he asked her.

“Yes.”

Jaypaw’s whiskers twitched with curiosity. Shadows were clouding Leafpool’s thoughts. “What did you dream about?”

“A medicine cat does not discuss what StarClan shares with her unless there is good reason to,” she told him.

Did that mean he couldn’t tell her about Onestar’s warning to Barkface? Then he’d tell Firestar as soon as he reached camp. It was his duty. His tail trembled with anticipation.

Firestar would be impressed.

Mothwing was yawning on the other side of the

Moonpool, as though she had enjoyed her sleep. Jaypaw leaned forward, focusing on her thoughts, but he could per-ceive only a careful blankness in her mind.

Willowpaw’s excitement suddenly flitted across the Moonpool, breaking his concentration like a warm breeze disturbing fallen leaves. I bet she’s dying to pass on Mudfur’s message.

He felt her curious stare graze his pelt, and wondered if she had noticed him eavesdropping in her dream. He turned away from her quickly.

“Come on, Willowpaw!” Mothwing called. “It’s too cold to hang around.”

“We should get home,” Leafpool meowed.

“Have you got something important to tell Firestar?”

Mothwing asked.

“I want to be back in camp before the dawn patrol leaves,”

she replied. “Or they’ll waste time searching for us before they check the borders.” She turned and followed Barkface and Littlecloud to the top of the ridge. Jaypaw padded after her. At the top he glanced backward, finding only stillness and silence.

“You go first,” Mothwing meowed. She waited for him to scramble down after the others and caught up with him as he followed them down the narrow valley.

“How’s your training going?” she asked.

“Okay, I suppose,” Jaypaw replied. He thought for a moment. “The best bit is sharing with StarClan.” He held his breath, waiting to see how she would react.

“Of course,” came the unsatisfying reply. “Any tough cases?” Jaypaw noticed she changed the subject immediately.

He thought of Stormfur. “One warrior has a scratch that won’t heal.”

“What are you treating it with?”

“Honey-and-horsetail poultices,” he replied. “But he rubs them off as quickly as I put them on. His nest is sticky with honey, and there’s a trail of it over half the camp.”

“Have you tried covering the scratch with catchweed after you’ve put on the poultice?”

Jaypaw recalled the feel of the fuzzy green balls on long, clinging stems. The tiny catchweed burrs would stick to Stormfur’s thick pelt without hurting and stop the poultice from being rubbed. “Thanks,” he mewed. “I’ll try it.”

“It helps to share ideas,” Mothwing commented.

“Does StarClan give you good advice, too?” he asked inno-cently, but Mothwing appeared not to hear. She was already hurrying to catch up with Willowpaw.

Jaypaw’s mind buzzed with curiosity as they trekked to the WindClan border. Mothwing kept a few pawsteps ahead of him, until the cats paused at their meeting place.

“Good-bye,” Littlecloud meowed as he turned toward the lake.

“See you at the Gathering,” Mothwing added, dipping her head to Leafpool.

“Travel carefully,” Leafpool called as Littlecloud, Mothwing, and Willowpaw headed lakeward together. “I’ll remember to leave those herbs for you, Littlecloud.”

“Thanks, Leafpool,” the ShadowClan cat called over his shoulder.

Barkface crossed the border into his own territory. “Take care,” he meowed.

And you. Jaypaw heard the heather rattle as the WindClan cat hurried home.

Left alone with Leafpool, Jaypaw was aware that the air had grown colder. He fluffed out his pelt. Frost was forming, stiffening the grass beneath his paws. Dawn must be coming.

He padded beside Leafpool into the forest. “Do you ever know what other cats dream about?” he asked, trying to sound as if he weren’t really bothered.

“I told you,” she answered, “we don’t discuss it.”

“But all medicine cats have dreams, don’t they?” he pressed. Did she know about Mothwing?

“Each medicine cat’s relationship with StarClan is different.” Leafpool spoke carefully, like a cat picking its way through a briar patch.

“But sharing tongues with StarClan is the most important part of being a medicine cat, isn’t it? Any cat could learn to heal his Clanmates, but a true medicine cat has to be able to

pass on messages from StarClan.”

“There is more to being a good medicine cat than interpreting signs,” Leafpool told him firmly. “Come on.” She broke into a run. “The dawn patrol will be heading off soon.”

She ran the rest of the way through the forest, checking to make sure Jaypaw was keeping up, but moving fast enough to keep him too busy to talk.

She knows more than she’s telling me, he thought as he followed her scent through the undergrowth.

They arrived at the camp just as the dawn patrol was preparing to leave. Brambleclaw was pacing restlessly. Ashfur kneaded the ground, and Brackenfur sat washing his paws, his eagerness to be off showing in every urgent lick. Brambleclaw halted as Leafpool and Jaypaw padded through the thorn barrier; Jaypaw sensed his father’s relief at their safe return.

“All well?” he called to Leafpool.

“Everything’s fine,” she replied as she padded away to her den.