“And I can’t afford to lose you again. There are plenty of ways you can help in camp.” The ThunderClan leader’s voice was firm, and though Jaypaw felt Graystripe bristle with indignation, he did not challenge his old friend.
The yew bush quivered as Hollypaw and Lionpaw slid out of their den. Anxiously Jaypaw lifted his muzzle to taste their scent. He relaxed when it was clean and healthy.
“We want to go on the first patrol,” Lionpaw mewed.
“Unless the Clan needs us in camp,” Hollypaw added.
“Firestar?” Brambleclaw looked to the ThunderClan leader to decide.
Firestar swept his tail thoughtfully over the ground.
“Lionpaw, you can patrol the border with Ashfur and Millie,”
he meowed. “Hollypaw can hunt with Birchfall.”
“I’ll do my best,” Hollypaw promised.
Jaypaw padded over to her. “Make sure you stay away from
the sick cats,” he warned. “Don’t share fresh-kill with any cat.” He glanced at Lionpaw. “And drink water as far from the camp as you can.” How would he cope if he had to watch them suffer along with his other patients? If only they had more catmint!
“Come on, Hollypaw!” Birchfall’s call was edgy with impatience, and she shot away to join him.
“We’ll join the hunt as soon as we’ve checked the border!”
Ashfur called after them as they raced out of the camp.
“Don’t tire yourselves out,” Firestar warned.
“We won’t.” Lionpaw raced away from Jaypaw and
pounded out of the camp behind his mentor.
A dark sense of dread pulsed across the clearing and swept Jaypaw like an icy wind. He jerked his head around and stared at Firestar.
Paws hammered outside the thorn barrier. Squirrelflight and Sandstorm were returning to camp. Jaypaw smelled fresh-kill. They had been hunting.
“Is that all you could find?” Firestar’s greeting was sharp with shock.
A mouse and a sparrow. Jaypaw heard the two small bodies drop onto the empty space where the fresh-kill pile used to be.
“Shall we go out again?” Squirrelflight offered.
“Rest first,” Firestar meowed. “Birchfall and Hollypaw are hunting, too.”
His pelt swished as he wove around Sandstorm. Jaypaw sensed that her touch soothed some of the anxiety pounding
through his body. The smell of fresh-kill made his belly rumble; he hadn’t eaten since yesterday. But Icekit and Foxkit needed food more than he did.
“Shall I take the mouse to the nursery?” he called to Firestar.
“Yes, please—” Firestar’s answer was cut short by a rustling on the slope outside the thorn barrier. Jaypaw tensed. He smelled WindClan.
Firestar padded to the entrance and sniffed the air.
“There’s only two of them,” Jaypaw called. He did not recognize the scents of the two WindClan cats who were padding toward the entrance of the hollow, but he sensed their anxiety as they padded into the camp.
The older of the two cats spoke first. “Forgive us for trespassing on ThunderClan territory.”
“Weaselfur!” Firestar sounded surprised. “What are you doing here?”
Jaypaw padded closer. The younger cat smelled of herbs.
“I’ve brought Kestrelpaw to speak with Leafpool,”
Weaselfur meowed.
“Hi, there,” he called.
Kestrelpaw was fidgeting nervously, kneading the ground.
“Are you Jaypaw?” he asked. “I need to speak to your mentor.”
Leafpool was already out of her den and padding toward Kestrelpaw. “What is it?”
“There’s greencough in WindClan,” Kestrelpaw mewed.
“Barkface was hoping you could share your catmint.”
Leafpool sighed. “We have none. The frost killed it. We have sick cats too, and there’s nothing we can do to help them.”
Squirrelflight padded to join her sister. “RiverClan have catmint,” she meowed. “They would share it with us, wouldn’t they?”
“I’ve wondered about that,” Leafpool meowed.
Jaypaw’s tail bristled. Why hadn’t she mentioned it before?
“Let’s go and ask them,” Kestrelpaw suggested.
“Mothwing might need all her supplies for her own Clan,”
Leafpool fretted.
“She wouldn’t let our Clanmates die if she knew how sick they were,” Squirrelflight argued.
“She might already know,” Kestrelpaw pointed out.
“StarClan might have told her.”
Leafpool shuffled her paws. “But what if there’s greencough in RiverClan too? She couldn’t risk giving away her supplies.”
Jaypaw didn’t understand why Leafpool was hesitating.
“We’ve got to try!” he mewed. This was their chance to save the Clan.
Squirrelflight’s fur was pricking with frustration too. “The Clans have helped one another before when it’s been life or death.”
“
“I’m not scared!” Leafpool growled. “I just don’t want to put Mothwing in a difficult position.”
Jaypaw clawed the ground. “What would she say if she found out cats died and you never asked for help?” He felt Leafpool’s mind recoil with alarm—and something else, the horror of a long-buried memory. “She’d be devastated!” he pressed.
“Very well,” Leafpool agreed. “I’ll go and ask her.”
Jaypaw knew she’d travel faster without him. “I’ll stay here and look after the sick cats,” he offered.
Leafpool leaned down and touched her muzzle to his.
“Thanks, Jaypaw.”
“I’ll do my best,” he mewed briskly. Then he realized that he would be responsible for every one of his Clanmates while Leafpool was away. The thought struck him like a kick to the belly.
Leafpool entwined his tail with hers. “Rely on your instincts, Jaypaw. They are sharper than any cat’s.”
He nodded, taking a deep breath.
“Brightheart will help you if necessary,” Leafpool went on.
“She’s worked with me before.”
Jaypaw’s tail pricked. Brightheart was the last cat he wanted watching him struggle to help his Clanmates. But he wasn’t going to let Leafpool know that.
“We’d better get going,” Leafpool meowed to the two WindClan cats.
Firestar padded over to block the entrance before Leafpool could head out. “I want Thornclaw and Brambleclaw to go with you,” he meowed.
“But we’re medicine cats,” Leafpool pointed out. “No cat will dare stop us.”
“You’re going to have to skirt the lake around ShadowClan territory,” Firestar pointed out. “I don’t trust ShadowClan right now.”
“Very well,” Leafpool meowed. She waited impatiently while Firestar called Thornclaw from the warriors’ den, and then the patrol raced out of the camp like rabbits.
