Dark River

Jaypaw padded mutinously away to the back of the den. It was so unfair! Leafpool had no patience with him these days, and yet she put up with Cinderpaw’s boredom and fidgeting with unending kindness. He flicked his tail petulantly at the stems soaking in the pool. “Is that horsetail ready yet?” He knew full well that they’d need soaking overnight for the juices to be fully restored.

“Of course not!” she meowed. “Use the ones I soaked yesterday!”

“Okay!” He hooked a soggy stem from a nearby pile and began to gnaw crossly at one end.

Leafpool padded over to join him. Comfrey scent filled the air as she collected a few leaves for Cinderpaw. “What’s the matter with you?” she hissed.

“What’s the matter with you?” he snapped back.

“I’m not the one giving Cinder paw the wrong medicine.”

“I only wanted to see if she would know the difference.”

“She’s Cinder paw, not Cinderpelt!”

“But there must be something there.”

“If there is, it’s not up to us to find it!” Jaypaw felt Leafpool’s breath on his cheek. “We have to let Cinderpaw find her own destiny!”

“What’s wrong with helping her along? Surely Cinderpaw deserves to know that she’s been sent back by StarClan to be a warrior.”

“If StarClan wants her to know, they’ll tell her,” Leafpool mewed.

“So you’re happy to leave it in the paws of StarClan.”

“Of course!” She sounded shocked. “And so should you.”

Jaypaw went back to chewing. The stem’s bitter juice made his whiskers twitch. Why was Leafpool so totally in awe of her ancestors? He’d met them; they seemed no different from cats who were still alive. Did Leafpool really think that dying made a dumb cat wise? They could walk in other cats’

dreams, but so could he. That didn’t mean he knew the answer to everything.

“Jaypaw!” Cinderpaw’s mew rang around the den.

Jaypaw blinked open his eyes. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” Cinderpaw sounded wide awake. Jaypaw lifted his muzzle and sniffed. It smelled as though dawn had only just arrived. Couldn’t she sleep a little longer? Or at least let him sleep a little longer?

“Leafpool’s gone to check on Foxkit,” she mewed. “I thought we could have a game while she’s gone.”

Jaypaw struggled to his paws, yawning. He could feel the lively energy coming off Cinderpaw in waves.

“I wish I could move my leg,” she complained. “I feel fine apart from that.”

“You have to keep it still if you want it to mend properly,”

Jaypaw told her.

“I know, I know.” Cinderpaw sighed. “But I’m so bored!”

Jaypaw felt a wave of sympathy for her. Newleaf had set the forest atwitter and the scent of fresh life called out like a friend begging to play. Something whistled through the air and bounced softly off his shoulder. A moss ball.

“Okay,” he conceded. “But you’re not allowed to move from your nest. I’ll throw it to you.”

“But you can’t see me.”

“Yes,” Jaypaw agreed. “But since you never shut up I can always hear exactly where you are.” He hooked the moss ball up with his paw and lobbed it at her.

Her nest scrunched as she stretched to catch it.

I must throw it lower next time.

The moss ball hissed through the air once more. Judging its distance exactly, Jaypaw leaped and dived, rolling over as he caught it.

“Wow!” Cinderpaw purred. “Impressive.” She was suddenly still. “What’s it like?”

Jaypaw tipped his head to one side. “What’s what like?”

“Being blind.”

“What does it feel like being able to see?”

“I don’t know, I guess it feels normal.”

“Well, being blind feels normal to me.”

“But isn’t it hard not being able to tell where everything is?”

“But I can tell.” Jaypaw appreciated Cinderpaw’s honesty; most other cats acted like if they didn’t talk about his lack of sight, he’d forget he was any different. “Everything smells or makes a sound, and sometimes I get a”—he searched for the right word—“a sense of things.”

“So you never get frustrated?”

“Only when I get treated like I’m different,” Jaypaw replied. “I don’t feel any different, so it’s really annoying when anyone makes a fuss about my blindness. It’s like they feel sorry for me when there’s nothing to feel sorry about.”

He flicked the ball into the air, then swiped it toward Cinderpaw. Her nest rustled under her.

“What in StarClan?” Leafpool’s furious mew sounded at the entrance. She darted across the den and whisked the moss ball into the pool, then rounded on Jaypaw. “What are you doing, making her stretch up like that?”

“It was my idea!” Cinderpaw mewed at once.

Leafpool ignored her. “You should have known better!”

Jaypaw bristled. “I told her not to move from her nest.”

“That’s not good enough! Her leg must heal properly!” Leafpool’s mew dropped to a whisper. “She must train as a warrior this time.”

“Why must she?” Anger exploded in Jaypaw’s chest. “Why would it be such a disaster if she had to take a different path?

I had to!”

Leafpool froze for a moment, then slowly replied, “You are blind.”

Jaypaw’s rage fell away. Did Leafpool think he was a lost cause? Did she only fight to save the cats who could be saved?

He turned away from her, too wretched to say anything.

Leafpool hurried away to Cinderpaw’s nest and began fussing with her cobweb binding.

Jaypaw padded out of the den. He could hear the Clan, busy in the clearing. Graystripe and Millie chatted to each other as they wove the roof of the new den into place. Lionpaw was chasing Foxkit and Icekit around the nursery. Ferncloud was sharing tongues with Dustpelt below Highledge.

I’m more than just a blind medicine cat! Jaypaw flexed his claws.

I’ll show them!

The brambles swished behind him.

“We need to fetch herbs.” Leafpool’s mew was matter-of-fact, as though nothing had passed between them. He searched her mind for some lingering anger or guilt, but her thoughts seemed to be carefully shielded. “The marigolds should be flowering by the lakeshore,” she went on as she led him out of camp.

Jaypaw didn’t speak. He sulked in silence as they trekked up the slope and over the ridge. As they emerged from the trees, a chilly wind cut through his fur. It smelled of rain.

Leafpool headed down the grassy slope to the shore. “I can see some.” She veered into the wind.

Jaypaw narrowed his eyes as it blasted his face. This was a pointless journey. “You know we’ve already got a pile of marigold in the den, don’t you?”

Leafpool slowed her pace to match his. “If there is to be a battle, we must be prepared,” she told him. “Our first duty is to heal the Clan.” Jaypaw felt her willing him to speak. “Don’t you think?” She sounded anxious.

Grudgingly, he let himself be drawn into conversation.

“Yes,” he conceded. “But what about sharing with StarClan?

That’s part of our duty too. Why didn’t they warn us a battle was coming?”

“StarClan doesn’t always tell us everything that’s going to happen.”

“Do we just have to wait until we’re told?” Jaypaw bristled with frustration. “We can walk among them in our