“I am,” Cloudtail assured her. “But I don’t want to push her. If she needs more time to recover I’m happy to wait.”

“You’re not pushing her, I’m sure,” Leafpool insisted.

Jaypaw sensed Cloudtail’s doubt melt away.

“I’m relieved to hear it,” the warrior meowed.

“I’m glad I could help.”

“Are you coming to eat?” Cloudtail asked. “A hunting party’s just returned.”

Jaypaw waited for the two cats to leave before he hopped out of the cleft in the rock. He could still feel Cinderpelt’s grief like a wound in his mind. How had Leafpool pushed it away so easily? She must have felt it; the memory was hers. Yet she had sounded so bright when she had spoken to Cloudtail.

Unnaturally bright, as though covering doubt. Jaypaw picked up a bundle of coltsfoot and headed back into the store. He hoped that Leafpool was right about Cinderpaw’s injury.

CHAPTER 5

Leafpool was sharing a mouse with Cloudtail when Jaypaw nosed his way out of the medicine cat den and padded to the fresh-kill pile.

There was plenty of prey to choose from. Hunting patrols had already stacked it full, and it was hardly sunhigh. As he dragged a shrew from the bottom—so fresh it still felt warm—the image of Cinderpelt starving in the snowy camp flashed in his mind. Was Leafpool thinking of her old mentor as she ate her meal?

“Jaypaw!” Graystripe was bounding across the clearing toward him. The warrior skidded to a halt. “Eat up! We’re going hunting.”

“Me?” Jaypaw’s heart soared.

“Sorreltail, Mousewhisker, and I will be hunting,” Graystripe corrected him. He must have realized Jaypaw’s disappointment. He whisked his tail along Jaypaw’s flank. “You’ve got a more important job. Leafpool wants you to come with us to gather herbs.”

Great. Jaypaw suddenly didn’t feel hungry anymore. He shoved the shrew back under the pile. “I’ll eat when I get back.”

“We’re going down to the lake,” Graystripe went on.

“The lake?” Jaypaw felt a glimmer of interest. The notched stick was on the shore; it was his link to the ancient cats from the tunnels. Maybe to even greater mysteries, if he could just understand what all the claw marks meant. “I guess it’ll be good to get out of camp and stretch my legs.”

“That’s more like it.” Graystripe turned and headed toward the thorn tunnel. Jaypaw could hear Sorreltail and Mousewhisker pacing there impatiently. He hurried after Graystripe, and together the patrol headed out into the forest.

Mousewhisker—only recently made a warrior—was buzzing with excitement. “I hope I catch something good! Maybe a squirrel.”

Graystripe purred. “Look out, squirrels!”

The woods were drowsy with heat, the undergrowth limp and fragrant as Jaypaw brushed past it, the air humming with bees. Mousewhisker’s paws thrummed on the leaf-strewn floor as he dashed on ahead. Graystripe hurried after him.