she was still a kit!”
Firestar’s mew was light but Jaypaw could sense the leader’s thoughts churning. Meanwhile, his Clanmates’ ruffled pelts began to smooth. Of course Hollypaw was all right.
Disappearing for the day was just the sort of thing she’d do.
Jaypaw wasn’t convinced. Firestar knew more than he was letting on. He tried to probe the ThunderClan leader’s mind, but a fretful cloud obscured any clear thoughts. Perhaps he should just ask him outright? Jaypaw shrugged away the idea.
Firestar clearly wanted to keep his fears to himself.
Jaypaw slipped past Brook and Brightheart and headed toward the medicine den. As he neared it, he heard the brambles at the entrance rustle. Leafpool had just darted inside.
She must have been listening. He padded into the cave, a little taken aback by the wave of emotion flooding from Leafpool’s pelt.
“Is it true?” Cinderpaw’s anxious mew sounded from her nest. “Has Hollypaw disappeared?”
“You know Hollypaw,” Jaypaw soothed. “She’s probably gone off to think.”
“I guess.” Cinderpaw’s nest rustled as she settled back down, but Jaypaw could sense the tension in her muscles.
Across the den, alarm pulsed even more fiercely from Leafpool.
“What’s the matter?” he hissed, hurrying to his mentor’s side. He focused on her thoughts and found her mind chaotic with worry and guilt, just as Firestar’s had been. They both knew something!
“I spoke to Hollypaw before she left the camp,” Leafpool admitted quietly.
Jaypaw pricked his ears. “Did she say where she was going?”
“No, but she was upset.” Leafpool’s voice was hoarse.
“She’d just asked Firestar to help RiverClan.”
“And he said no,” Jaypaw guessed, remembering how Firestar had reacted to his dream.
“She couldn’t possibly believe she could help RiverClan by herself!” meowed Leafpool.
“Hollypaw wouldn’t be that mouse-brained,” Jaypaw agreed.
“But maybe she thought that if she couldn’t reason with Firestar, she might be able to convince Onestar not to fight,”
Leafpool went on reluctantly.
A dark pit seemed to open in Jaypaw’s stomach. Hollypaw always thought the world was neatly divided into right and wrong. And if she thought Firestar was making a mistake, she might be stubborn enough to try and mend things on her own. He shook the thought away. She wouldn’t be that reck-less. Would she?
He felt Leafpool’s paw pressing his. “You must try to dream!” she meowed. “You have to find out where she is!”
Her urgent plea set his fur bristling with indignation. Not so long ago she’d begged him to keep his dreams a secret; now she wanted him to use them to find Hollypaw. Was this all he was to her? A quick way to get answers from StarClan when she wanted them, and a danger to the Clan when she didn’t?
“Please!”
“I’m not tired!” Jaypaw objected. “I can’t just dream when I like.”
“Just close your eyes and try,” Leafpool begged.
“I’ll dream when I’m ready!” he snapped.
He padded toward the entrance and felt Leafpool’s pelt brush against his. She was blocking the way!
“You have to try now!” Leafpool hissed.
Jaypaw’s pelt bristled. “But she’s probably just gone off by herself for a bit.” What was wrong with Leafpool? She
sounded more worried than Squirrelflight!
Cinderpaw’s nest rustled. “Is something wrong?”
Leafpool turned to reassure her patient. “Don’t worry,” she soothed. “Keep still and rest your leg.”
So that was what she was worried about. Not Hollypaw.
Just her precious patient. Jaypaw’s ears burned with rage. He pushed past her and stamped out of the den.
The camp was calmer now. Firestar had jumped down from Highledge to talk to Brambleclaw and Squirrelflight.
“The sunset patrol can keep an eye open for any trace of her,” Firestar was meowing. “We’ll see what they report and then send out a search party.”
“I want to be on the sunset patrol,” Squirrelflight meowed at once.
“And the search party,” Brambleclaw added.
“Of course,” Firestar agreed. “You must lead them both.”
Jaypaw let his ruffled fur relax. A search party was much more sensible than Leafpool’s desperate plea for dreams. She was as edgy as a deer these days. If Hollypaw didn’t turn up, then of course he’d try and use his powers to find her, but he wasn’t going to sleep all afternoon just because Leafpool ordered him to. He wanted to get away from her, away from the camp, away from everyone. He began to squeeze through the thorn tunnel.
“Where are you going?” Squirrelflight called after him.
Anxiety was pricking from her pelt. Was she worried about losing another kit? One that every cat believed couldn’t take care of himself?
“For a walk.”
“Don’t be long.”
He scrambled down onto the beach and paused. Unlike the forest, which never seemed to change, the ground around the edge of the lake was always different. The pebbles seemed to shift so that they never felt the same underpaw, and debris came and went, washed up, then washed away again. Jaypaw loved the challenge of the shore. Just so long as he could steer clear of the water. He padded cautiously forward, muzzle outstretched, sniffing for driftwood or rubbish that might trip him. But his mind was fixed on the stick, hopefully still tucked safely behind the tree root. He weaved his way toward it, his heart beating faster as he neared it. He reached out a paw. It was there! Still safe.
Happily, he dragged it from its hiding place and ran his paws over it, feeling the warmth of the wood and welcoming the jarring ripples as his pads bumped over the scratches. The swishing of the waves and the murmuring of the wind drifted away. He was aware only of the branch beneath his pads and the sharp etches cut into it. A voice breathed in his ears, too
soft to hear. It was husky like the voice of an old cat and it seemed to be listing names, as though counting them off.
Jaypaw felt his heart quicken as his paw neared the end of the branch. The uncrossed scratches lay there. His belly tightened.
He strained to hear the voice. But when his paw touched the first uncrossed mark the voice choked and fell silent.
Disappointed, Jaypaw lay down beside the stick and rested his cheek on the smooth wood. He closed his eyes, soothed by the lapping of the lake, and began to dream.
Sandy earth shifted beneath his paws. He blinked open his eyes. A wall of jagged rock loomed ahead of him. Rolling heather rippled behind him in the wind. The sky overhead was black, studded with stars. At the top of the rock wall, he saw cats silhouetted against the night sky. None looked familiar and when he sniffed the air, Jaypaw recognized the scent only from those he had smelled at the Moonpool, when ancient Clans had brushed pelts with him on the paw-worn path to the pool.
Suddenly, one cat broke away from the others and bounded down the steep slope, a young tom with muscular shoulders beneath his sleek ginger-and-white pelt. A she-cat scrambled after him. The others remained at the top, their tails flicking nervously.
