Sandstorm came up to Jaypaw. “Can I help with anything?”
He didn’t know where to start. The medicine den was full, feverfew was running short, and he was so hungry he could hardly think straight.
“The mouse!” He suddenly remembered. “I was going to take it to the nursery for the kits.”
“I can do that,” Sandstorm meowed. “You go back to the medicine den.”
Her steady mew calmed him. “Thanks,” he murmured.
He returned to the den to find that Poppypaw’s fever had risen even more. Mousefur’s breathing was so shallow he had to press his muzzle to her flank to feel it. Ferncloud was begging for water, and the bedding stank.
Summoning all his strength, he went to fetch a wad of soaked moss for Ferncloud.
“Sandstorm told me you need some help.” Brightheart’s voice sounded from the den entrance.
“Yes.” Jaypaw’s ears twitched nervously, but for the first time in days he felt no anger flash from the one- eyed warrior.
“Can you help me clear out the old bedding?” he asked.
“I can do the bedding by myself,” Brightheart told him.
“You see to your patients.” Something small and sweet-smelling thudded at his paws. “Sandstorm said you should eat this.” Brightheart had tossed him a piece of the mouse.
He shook his head.
“You have to keep your strength up,” Brightheart insisted.
“While Leafpool’s gone, you are responsible for the whole Clan.”
Which meant that until Leafpool returned with catmint, there was nothing he could do except watch his Clanmates die. Jaypaw felt the same hopelessness as when he flailed his claws at Owlpaw in the battle against ShadowClan, never sure where his enemy would lunge from next.
“Eat the mouse,” Brightheart prompted.
“Okay.” He wasn’t going to act like a mewling kit. Did he want every cat to know he couldn’t cope? They already thought he was useless; they didn’t have to think he was weak and scared too!
Jaypaw gulped down the morsel, and then, while
Brightheart started tugging out the foul bedding, he chewed up mouthfuls of feverfew and tried to persuade Poppypaw to swallow some. “Come on,” he urged her. “Just taste a little.”
Poppypaw pushed him away with a burning paw. “I can’t swallow,” she rasped.
“You must try.”
Jaypaw suddenly felt another pelt against his. He smelled Sorreltail, Poppypaw’s mother.
“She’s worse, isn’t she?” the she-cat mewed.
“Leafpool’s gone to WindClan to ask for catmint,” Jaypaw told her.
“But will Poppypaw survive until she returns?” Sorreltail’s mew cracked with grief.
“I’ll make sure she does,” Jaypaw growled. He tried to stop his paws from trembling as he pushed the feverfew under Poppypaw’s nose yet again. He had been a medicine cat apprentice for less than a moon. Could he really keep a promise like that?
“Come on.” Brightheart nudged Sorreltail. “Jaypaw will do what he can. You should go hunting with Brackenfur. The more fresh-kill we have, the stronger the Clan will be.”
As the one-eyed warrior guided her Clanmate out of the medicine den, Jaypaw rubbed the feverfew pulp onto Poppypaw’s lips, hoping that some of it would find its way into her fever-racked body.
Jaypaw woke with a start. He had dozed off without meaning to. The silence of night lay heavily on the forest. An owl hooted far away as Jaypaw struggled to his paws. He felt light
headed with hunger and exhaustion, but he had to check on the sick cats.
Brightheart was sleeping at the entrance to the den. Her steady breathing comforted him as he picked his way around the sick cats. Mousefur was shivering, and he pulled fresh moss over her to keep her warm, though heat pulsed from her body. Ferncloud murmured the names of her kits, and Whitewing fidgeted uncomfortably in her sleep. Jaypaw sat and listened. Something was not right. He ducked down beside Poppypaw. Her breathing had slowed.
Jaypaw’s heart began to race. He slid into the nest beside her and pressed his body against hers. She was unnaturally still. Fear gripped him; he had promised Sorreltail that he wouldn’t let her die. He focused on Poppypaw’s breathing and let his body relax. Then he steadied his breath until it fell into the same slow rhythm as hers. He closed his eyes, and the world opened up before him in shades of black, white, and silver, washed with moonlight. He could see the pale shape of Poppypaw padding through a forest. He recognized the trees and the undergrowth and the feel of the leaf-strewn earth underneath his paws at once. Poppypaw mustn’t come here!
“Poppypaw!” He hurried to catch up to the apprentice, and she turned to gaze at him.
“I’ve never been to this part of the forest before.” She sniffed the air. “It doesn’t smell like home. Do you know where we are?”
“Yes,” Jaypaw whispered.
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“It’s strange,” Poppypaw mewed. “Whatever herbs you gave me must have worked, because I don’t feel sick anymore.”
Jaypaw didn’t reply. How was he going to bring Poppypaw back from this place? He padded wordlessly beside her, terrified of losing sight of her.
“The trees are so tall and leafy, and the undergrowth is thicker than anything.” Poppypaw obviously didn’t realize that Jaypaw could see it for himself. “Can you smell all the scents of prey? It’s like greenleaf here!”
“We’ve got to go back!” Jaypaw told her.
“But it’s so beautiful.”
“You shouldn’t be here!”
The trees opened before them.
“Stop!” Poppypaw gasped. “There’s a drop in front of us.”
Jaypaw could clearly see the hollow below them, the Moonpool cradled at the bottom like liquid starlight. In this place everything was connected, and the forest led all the way into the mountains. Jaypaw’s heart sank when he saw the shining pelts of StarClan gathered around the slopes.
“There’s a pool at the bottom,” Poppypaw breathed.
“There are cats all around it. . . .” Her mew trailed away. “It’s StarClan, isn’t it? Does that mean I’m
Jaypaw’s throat went dry.
“Am I dead?” she repeated more urgently.
“Not yet.”
Jaypaw spun around when he heard Spottedleaf ’s voice.
“Coming here with her was very brave,” murmured the tortoiseshell cat.
“I promised her mother I’d keep her safe,” Jaypaw told her.
Poppypaw’s eyes clouded with confusion as she stared at Spottedleaf. “Who are you? Have you come to guide me to StarClan?”
“No!” Jaypaw growled. “Come back to the Clan with me, Poppypaw. I’ll take you home.”
“It’s okay, little one,” Spottedleaf meowed. “You can go with Jaypaw. There is a place here for you, but not yet.”
Stretching forward, she touched her muzzle first to Poppypaw’s and then to Jaypaw’s. “Take her home,” she whispered.
Brightheart’s voice cut through the air. “Jaypaw!”
He blinked open his eyes into darkness. “Brightheart?”
“I thought you were ill too,” Brightheart whispered. “Your breathing was so slow.”
