Leafpool kept on with her work. But the coltsfoot in her paws grew more fragrant, as though her pads were twitching with unease. “What were they like?” she mewed.

“They’re a bit like StarClan.” They had known I would come.

They knew about the prophecy. “But they didn’t try to help the Tribe to beat the invaders.”

“Sometimes even our ancestors are powerless to help us.” Leafpool sighed.

“But it was like they were lost.” Jaypaw couldn’t shake the idea that the Tribe hadn’t always lived in the mountains; that they had lived far away from the bitter winds and craggy peaks, among cats who were the first to know about the prophecy of three.

Leafpool had paused in her task, and he could sense her watching him, curiosity flashing from her pelt.

“I was surprised Stoneteller was leader and medicine cat,” he mewed before she could ask any more questions about the Tribe of Endless Hunting.

“It’s a lot of responsibility for one cat,” Leafpool agreed. She began rolling the coltsfoot again. “Great knowledge can be lonely.”

Jaypaw’s heart lurched. Does she mean the prophecy? Does she know? She can’t! She would have said something. His heart began to slow as he reassured himself that Leafpool would never be able to ignore a secret like that. Nevertheless, he tried to search her thoughts for some clue. The usual fog barred his way. He could sense only wistfulness engulfing her like a cloud. She might not know about the prophecy, but something was troubling her.

Why did she often seem so unhappy? He wanted to cheer her up. “Can I get you some fresh-kill?” he offered.

“No.” Leafpool gave herself a small shake, as though banishing her thoughts. “But you can start putting the comfrey back in storage.”

As Jaypaw backed in through the cleft with a wad of comfrey between his jaws, a voice sounded at the entrance. “Leafpool?”

Jaypaw recognized Cloudtail.

“You’re here.” The warrior sounded relieved to find Leafpool in her den.

Jaypaw stayed where he was. He could busy himself rolling and stacking the comfrey at the back of the cleft while Leafpool and Cloudtail talked.

“Are you hurt?” Leafpool asked.

“No.” Cloudtail was pacing the cave. “I’m worried about Cinderpaw.”

Jaypaw pricked his ears. So far, only he and Leafpool knew that Cinderpaw had lived before as ThunderClan’s medicine cat, Cinderpelt; that she had been given a second chance to live her life as she had always dreamed—as a warrior of ThunderClan. Cinderpaw herself didn’t realize. But she sometimes showed flashes of knowledge that only memory could have taught her, and she talked about the old forest as though she had seen it with her own eyes. Was Cloudtail beginning to suspect that there was something unusual about his apprentice?

“Is she okay?” Leafpool’s breathing had quickened with his own.

Jaypaw leaned closer to the opening.